


Dueling for Salem

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-12
Updated: 2007-08-17
Packaged: 2019-01-19 05:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12403707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Ten years after DH, an American wizarding family faces the exposure of the magical world. Complete!





	1. Salem Academy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

__Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ and the wizarding world belong to JK Rowling.

 A/N: This is my first fanfic, so reviews appreciated!

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_Salem_ _Academy_ __

_Where Learning is Magical!_

_Founded 1657 by the Salem Witches’ Institute_

  
The school was surrounded by parents and students, everyone preparing for the move into the Salem dormitories.  Sparks flew as parents waved their wands, and levitating suitcases threatened to bump into each other in the air.  JP, in the car with her mother, said, “That took forever.”

            

“Well, we couldn’t use magic. Of course it took forever. If forever means forty -five minutes.”

            

JP groaned. “I hate driving without magic.”

            

“Well, Asia’s parents are non-magical, in case you forgot. If you want a new best friend, we could arrive at school in ten minutes.”

            

“Okay, just saying.”

            

JP jumped out of the car and unlatched the trunk, pulling her suitcases out of the magically expanding space.

            

“Wingardium Leviosa!” JP waved her wand at her bags, but her mother blocked the spell quickly. “Mom, I’m at school.”

            

“Do you want the bags to get to your room in one piece?”

            

“Alright, alright.”

            

JP’s mother levitated Asia’s bags, then JP and Asia followed the floating suitcases to the dorm, where girls were running everywhere, embracing their friends and talking rapidly about their summers. On the third floor, they stopped and examined the door sign – “Asia Madison. Joan McFarland.” 

            

“They got your name wrong again,” Asia said, opening the door and pushing her suitcase in by hand. 

            

“I know. But I don’t know the sign changing spell. I guess I’ll just wait for my mom.” JP’s bags arrived and settled themselves on her bed. 

            

The girls ripped into their bags.  They had been roommates since their first year at Salem, and had spent a majority of the summer together, including the previous night, in preparation for the return to school, so they didn’t need to do the reacquainting. 

            

They pulled out their wands, and clothes started flying around the room, getting mixed in with each other and ending up in every strange place possible. 

            

Eventually, JP’s mom and Asia’s parents came in, looking around as if astounded. “What is going on?”

            

“We’re just unpacking.”

            

Asia’s dad ducked a flying Frisbee. “Are you supposed to have this?”

            

The girls ignored him.

            

“Mom, my name’s wrong on the sign again.” JP gave up on trying to magically hang a poster and simply stood on her bed to spellotape it. 

            

Her mother flipped her wand over her shoulder and the door sign read “JP McFarland.”  Asia’s parents looked impressed, as they always did, at the sight of magic, especially when performed by adults.  They seemed to be out of place, but still ordered Asia to make her bed. 

            

The three parents started talking as two of JP and Asia’s friends leapt into the room. “What’s up?”

            

The four girls began a routine of jumping up and down and telling summer stories.  McKenna and Toni were in the middle of a discourse on how they thought their new room was haunted when a loud voice called, “Excuse me!”

            

“Myra!” JP shouted. Her sister didn’t react, but consulted a clipboard. “Everything in this room okay?”

            

JP and Asia looked around. “Too small. I want to move.”

            

“Nothing? Good.” She made a note and turned toward the door.  Her mother followed her into the hallway. 

            

“How did the week go? We didn’t hear from you.”

            

“It was good. Really busy.”  She had spent the week training for her new position, a girls’ dormitory resident assistant.

            

“I guess you did get sophomores.”

            

“Yeah, I got seventh grade and sophomores. I told them JP was here, but they didn’t really care.”

            

“She’ll be fine. If she’s not, punish her. I’m expecting a more focused year.”

            

“Okay.” Myra looked down at her clipboard.  She still had ten rooms of sophomores to go, and was yet to start on seventh grade, though their parents would be around much longer.  At least, she thought, she didn’t have to deal with the scared new sixth graders. 

            

“A lot to do?”

            

“Kind of.”

            

“I’ll let you go.  I may see you today or not, but I’ll be around.”  She went back into JP’s room, and Myra moved on to her next charge, though McKenna and Toni were still talking to Asia and JP. Myra sighed, ducking a flying duffel bag.  It was going to be a long day. 

 

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Athena McFarland walked the grounds with Asia’s parents, Frank and Leana Madison.  The two girls were off with their friends, completely moved in, and the parents had decided to take a break before the Madisons had to drive back to Baltimore.  

            

“This school never fails to amaze me,” Frank observed, looking around at the students running wild throughout the campus. 

            

“I know what you mean.”

            

“You attended this school, right?”

            

“Mostly.”

            

“It’s fairly old?”

            

“Three hundred fifty this year.”

            

“Wow.”

            

“Thea?” Asia’s mother watched a group of senior students, strutting around self-importantly. “We need to talk to you sometime about Asia’s future.  We were discussing it the other night, and we still have no idea what students do when they graduate.  Asia talks about careers, and I have no idea what they are.”

            

“She still has time, but we can discuss it.”

            

“I know I shouldn’t worry, but…”

            

“I know.”

            

“What is Myra going to do?”  

            

Thea sighed. “I really don’t know.  Myra has no idea, and it really is time for her to think about it.  She’s a senior, and higher education is not common.  She can attend a non-magical university if she wants, but otherwise, it’s straight to training.”

            

“And that doesn’t hurt them? Not having a college education?”

            

“Not unless they try to integrate into the non-magical community.”

            

The Madisons still looked perplexed.  

            

“Mom!” 

            

Thea and the Madisons turned around to see a wizard in full robes, the Salem crest blazing in gold on his chest. “Frank, Leanna, my son Jared.”

            

Jared shook their hands. “Asia’s parents?”

            

“Yes…How are you?”

            

“Great, you?” Jared and his mother embraced and she started asking questions. 

            

“Good, good. Are you feeling settled?”

            

“I am.  I forgot how overwhelming move-in day is.  It’s much different as a professor, believe me.  I’ve never had so many twelve year olds afraid of me…I think I like it.”

            

“You’ll be a great teacher, I know it.”

            

Jared nodded in a non-committal way.  “I hope so.”

            

“What do you teach?” Frank asked. 

            

“History.  I have mostly magical history in its non-magical context.  It’s very interesting.”

            

“Sounds like it.”

            

Jared fidgeted with his robes, looking proud of his new station.  As a first year professor, there was no doubt that he had to prove himself, and he seemed more than eager to do it.  His mother smiled admiringly. 

            

The Madisons shook hands with Jared and Thea again as they left for their long drive. “Call if you need anything,” Thea said. “And we’ll talk about Asia.”

            

“I should be moving too,” Jared said. “I think I’m supposed to mingle and look imposing.”           

            

“Absolutely.”  

            

Jared ran off, full of energy. 

            

“Athena McFarland.”

            

“Aurelius Exeter.”  Thea strode forward to shake hands with the principal of Salem Academy.  “Beginning of another year.”

            

“I know.  We have the opening assembly in a few minutes.  How are things in DC?”

            

“Great.  I think everything is good for the start of the school year.  It was a fight with Northridge over the curriculum. They didn’t want to increase the history requirements, but they gave in.”

            

“They’re a bunch of potion-drinking hippies who wouldn’t know academic magic if it bit them in the ass.”

            

“And they said you’re a bunch of tweedy old money who have no respect for practical magic.  It’s always a battle.”

            

Aurelius laughed.  “Fair enough.” He checked a watch tucked into a pocket of his impressive blue and gold Salem robes. “I need to be presiding over disinterested magical youth right about now.  Let me know if anything comes up with the Department.”

            

“Absolutely.  Have a good year.”

 

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JP squirmed in the seat next to Asia. “This is so boring.”

            

“I know.  Why do they make us do this every year?”

            

It seemed to them as if no one in the auditorium much appreciated the opening assembly, except of course the sixth graders, but they didn’t know better.

            

“JP, Asia, shut up.” Since becoming an RA, Myra seemed to have acquired a habit of hearing everything.  “This assembly is important.  It’s the schools 350th anniversary.”

            

“Oh no.  Now this will be even longer.”

            

At the front of the hall, Professor Exeter stood up on stage, where the entire staff was seated, trying to look intimidating.  “Attention please.” His voice was magically magnified, and he glared around the room before proceeding.  “For those of you who are new, I am Professor Exeter, the principal of this Academy. We’re happy to welcome members of the Salem Witches’ Institute, our founder and benefactor.”  He led the students in a forced round of applause.  “Now please grant the head of the Institute, Mercy Proctor, your full attention.  I need not, I hope, remind you that those who chose not to behave appropriately will find themselves serving detention with Professor Strauss and myself.”

            

“Ooh,” JP whispered. “Strauss looks more evil than ever.” Asia giggled. 

            

A tiny witch draped in black stepped to the front of the stage.  Even with magnification, her voice was thin and frail.  “Welcome back, pupils.  I am so tickled that you are all here – excited to begin another year of magical learning.  But before we begin with our year, I would like to speak to you about the school’s founding.”

            

“Ten galleons says she was alive back then.”

            

“We remember, of course, the Salem Witch Trials, which show us that magic is feared…” She droned on about the trials for fifteen minutes.  Asia began to snore.  McKenna, on her other side, jabbed her in the ribs. 

            

“We must remember that magic is important to all of us and that it is a responsibility.  We must use our gifts well, we must study hard, and we must…”

            

“Care for all people, magic and non-magic alike,” JP whispered along with the close. Everyone clapped, probably happy that the discourse was over. 

            

Professor Strauss nudged Professor Exeter, who stood.  “Let us thank Mrs. Proctor…”

            

Once the applause stopped, he resumed. “And now, beginning of the year announcements. We’re all excited to welcome you back.  As I mentioned, I’m Professor Exeter.  Behind me is Professor Strauss, head teacher and chair of the Department of Languages.”

            

Professor Strauss looked up sharply.  She was extremely beautiful, which only added to the imposing, stern look she had so carefully cultivated. “She definitely got more evil over the summer.” JP shook Asia awake. “Did you hear me?”

            

“To those of you who have just arrived, remember that older students are here to assist you, especially the eight resident assistants, who you met earlier today.  And now, on to some basic regulations…”

            

Several students groaned. 

            

“Curfew is ten o’clock for junior high, eleven for high school.  This means be in your rooms at those times.  No excuses.  Everyone is to be in their dormitory buildings at eight.  No magic is to be performed in the hallways or on the grounds without supervision.  The dress code is full uniform for all classes and school related activities.  On weekends and in your dormitories, you may wear whatever you choose – within reason.  The staff reserves the right to tell you to change.  Please note that Muggle - ”  Professor Strauss cleared her throat.“Pardon me, non-magical articles are not forbidden, but they will not work on campus.  Non-magical students needing to contact home should inform their resident assistants or Professors Armistead and McFarland, who are respectively, the faculty contacts for female and male students.”

            

“Your brother looks so weird.”

            

“I know. He’s - ” JP choked, then gasped for breath. 

            

“What was that?”

            

JP looked at the stage.  Professor Strauss was staring at her, playing with the wand in her lap. 

              


“She jinxed me.”

            

“Shh.” Myra leaned between them again. 

            

“We already know the forbidden list.”

            

Professor Exeter was indeed listing the forbidden magical objects “Including but not limited to…”

            

“I’m so hungry,” McKenna whispered.

            

“What’s for dinner?” Asia asked. 

            

“I don’t know. I hope it’s good.”

            

JP wanted to talk to them, but decided to avoid risking another jinx. 

            

The students were all squirming when they were slowly dismissed to dinner “in an orderly fashion.”

            

JP and Asia charged out of the auditorium, pulling their friends Aaron and Hari with them.  They hadn’t seen the boys during move-in, since they were in a different dorm, and hadn’t really gotten to talk to them through the assembly.  McKenna ran behind them, shouting for Toni.  They were toward the front of the pack when JP ran right into someone.  She could tell by the robes that this wouldn’t be good. “Welcome back,” said Professor Strauss. “Walk please.” JP walked as quickly as possible toward the cafeteria, throwing herself into a chair at their group’s favorite table. “It’s ours again!” Hari proclaimed.  

            

“No sixth graders better sit here.” JP said. 

            

“Joan, don’t say that.” JP looked behind her to see Jared, who looked strange in his silver and black dress robes. 

            

“You going to put me in detention?” 

            

“Maybe.”

            

“No you wouldn’t.”

            

“Okay, maybe not…I’ll call mom.”

            

JP gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

            

Jared moved toward the staff table as food appeared, family-style, on the table.  Everyone lunged toward the potatoes. 

            

“JP, doesn’t it suck?” Toni asked.

            

“What?”

            

“Your brother’s a teacher and your sister’s an RA.”

            

JP laughed. “It kind of sucks.”

 

 

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Abby reached across Myra for the roast beef. “How was move-in for you?”

            

“Okay. You?”

            

“Busy.  You’re lucky not to have sixth grade.”

            

“Yeah.”

            

Myra passed a plate to Jackson, on her right. “They’re not too bad,” he said. Abby glared at him for not offering support.  Myra glanced at her roommate, Sadie, across the table.  Apparently, the eight RAs weren’t about to commiserate together over their jobs, but to go into the inevitable competition.  Myra wasn’t surprised.    They were her seven best friends in the school, but they were also the top students, and their last year was bound to be a contest.  Rivalry had marked their past six years, and now their senior year was starting.  Not surprisingly, they were in the positions of leadership, looking at top careers in the magical world. Myra looked down at her plate, stirring her potatoes, as the discussion drifted to future plans. 

            

“I shadowed at the Department of Mysteries this summer,” Wesley said. 

            

“Is that allowed? Isn’t it supposed to be a mystery?”

            

“I got in. It’s amazing. I’m definitely applying as soon as there’s an opening.  They think one of the senior members will retire, so that’s good for me.”

            

“Magical law enforcement looks really interesting,” Abby said. “I think with my experience as an RA and with the studies in history, it could be perfect for me.”

            

“What about you Myra?”

            

“What?”          

            

“What are you going to do?”

            

Myra avoided Anders’ and Beatrice’s glances from across the table and looked at Sadie instead. “I don’t really know.  I’m looking at a few things.”  

            

“Aren’t you just going to be a teacher like your mom and dad and brother?”

            

“No. No, I can do a lot of other stuff, so…” She went back to playing with her food, grateful for a crying sixth grade girl to distract Abby away from the table. 

            

That night, Myra walked through the sixth floor, checking all of the rooms. “In bed,” she said to one of the seventh-grade girls. 

            

“He just said in our room.”

            

“Classes start tomorrow. You’ll want some sleep.”

            

“I don’t need sleep. We just got here.” The girl jumped up on her bed, but didn’t make a move to get in it. 

            

Myra sighed. “Whatever. Just stay in your room.” 

            

After an hour of the sixth floor, she moved to the third floor and the sophomores. Girls scurried into their rooms as she walked by.  Myra enjoyed the feeling of power, but she really wanted to talk to Sadie then go to bed. She watched JP and Asia, along with McKenna and Toni, dart into their respective rooms. 

            

“Bed,” she shouted. 

 


	2. Class

Jared stood in front of his first class of the day, adjusting his robes as the students came in and sat down.  He had bought a completely new wardrobe for his job, but it didn’t make him feel any more confident in front of the room, especially since his first period was seniors, only six years younger than him.  

            

“Welcome everyone.  This is International Magical Relations, and I’m Professor McFarland. Here’s the syllabus.” He passed around a stack of papers. “And here..” he waved his wand. “Are the textbooks.  Please note that the reading for this class is substantial.  I have been advised to warn you that taking this class along with either Potions 7 Advanced or Transfiguration 7 is discouraged, since all of these classes require extreme dedication.”

            

Everything seemed to be going smoothly.  The students were watching him and weren’t talking amongst themselves. “As I said, I’m Professor McFarland. It’s my first year teaching at Salem, but I did go through school here myself.  I’ve spent the time since I graduated studying history and working for the office of the Magical Records Department. I’m very excited to be back.  History is a fascinating subject, and in this course, we’ll see how international magical history shapes relations even today.” Jared stopped to breathe and note that students should begin to take notes. “To get started, we’ll go back to 234 BC…”

            

By the end of the two hours, Jared was sweating, and his voice was shaking.  The seniors simply sat in their desk and took down the notes, not offering any form of feedback.  He was grateful when the bell sounded and the students gathered their things to move to their next class. “Thank you, Professor,” one of the girls said.  Jared thought she was a friend of Myra’s, but couldn’t remember her name. 

            

His next class was sixth grade, Introduction to Magical History. They were a completely different experience from his last class. “Come in, sit wherever you like.”

            

The students were a combination of nervous and misbehaved.  All of them talked at once about everything they had seen so far at Salem.  Apparently, most of them had come from Transfiguration or Potions, where, if Jared remembered from his own school days, the teachers usually started the year by lighting themselves on fire while using an anti-burning potion.  There was no way he could compete with that. 

 

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Myra stirred the potion at her lab station, which was beginning to simmer slowly. “When it turns a light lime green color, add the horn of unicorn,” Professor Nelson called from the front.      

            

“How was Arithmency?” Jackson asked her. 

            

“Good.”

            

Abby unscrewed the jar of unicorn horn. “I just had history.”

            

“Yeah?”

            

“With your brother.  He looked good.”

            

“Gross. He’s my brother.”

            

“I know.  He said not to take his class with this class or Transfiguration 7.  Oh well. I’m taking them all, and I’m sure it will be fine.  What are you taking?”

            

Myra stirred again, watching the potion boil almost to the top of the cauldron. “Turn the heat down, Beatrice…I’m taking this and Spells, obviously.”

            

“And?”

            

“Some other stuff.”

            

“What?”

            

“Defense, Arithmency, and Runes.”

            

“Okay. Those aren’t too hard.”

            

“No, I guess not.” They actually seemed very hard, but she didn’t want to tell Abby. 

            

“Who’s teaching runes now? Didn’t the prof retire?”

            

“Yeah, I have Strauss.”

            

“Oh my god, really? You’re taking a class with Strauss your senior year? You are so brave.  I couldn’t do that to my g.p.a.”

            

“She’s not that bad.”

            

Abby gave up and turned to Jackson. “What about you?”

            

By the time the potion was finished and bottled for grading, she had interrogated everyone at the table about their schedules. “No one’s taking Muggle Studies, I guess.”

            

“Non-magical, and no,” Jackson said.

            

“It’s such a blow off.  What good is that going to do anyone?”

            

“I don’t know.  It could be helpful,” Myra whispered, though she couldn’t muster as much courage as she would have liked. 

            

“But you’re not taking it.”

            

“Well, I’m half Muggle, so no.  That would be stupid.”

 

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JP sat forward in her seat. “Welcome to Non-Magical Studies: Arts and Entertainment,” Professor Armistead said. She was a small, blond woman who spoke quietly and shyly.  Like Jared, she was also a first year professor. “In this class, we’ll be studying non-magic forms of the arts and the methods that non-magic peoples have invented to entertain themselves.  We will start with the visual arts and move on to film and television.” 

 

Most students in the class, from wizarding families and unfamiliar with anything Armistead was saying, looked amazed.  JP was simply having a great time.  She was still looking at the syllabus as she sat down in her next class, Introduction to Non-Human Languages.  After a minute, the paper flew out of her hands. “Non-magical studies. I don’t believe this is the right class.”

            

JP looked up.  When she had signed up for the class, the schedule had said “Staff, to be determined.” Everyone in the room seemed to have the same reaction, sitting back in their chairs. “This is Introduction to Non-Human Languages,” Professor Strauss said. “We focus on Mermish and Goblin in this course, with a look at the language families of magical non-humans.” Syllabi and textbooks flew around the room, landing on each student’s desk. “Attendance every day is absolutely necessary, as is participation.  This is a language class. We will be taking notes and doing exercises, but actual speaking is the best way to learn.  Alright, let’s get started…”

            

JP swallowed and took out her notebook. Behind her, Anne and Tom, the latest freshman couple, were talking quietly while copying down information on merpeople.  “Did I forget to mention that those who do not listen will be given detentions?”

            

She continued to speak about underwater life while the chalk moved along side her, writing notes on the blackboard. Anne and Tom leaned toward each other, smiling, but making sure not to speak.  JP tried to gesture to them to stop, but they looked smug that they were getting around the teacher’s orders.  Professor Strauss never turned around, but pink detention slips appeared on Anne’s and Tom’s desks.  They looked down at the papers and gasped.  Strauss gave them a minute to become angry before whipping her wand over her shoulder and throwing them both back into their seats, sitting up straight and facing the front. “Any questions?”

 

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“So then she was like, ‘Those who don’t listen will be given detentions and Anne and Tom were all ‘well, we won’t talk, we’ll just stare at each other.’”

            

“Oh my god, what did she do?”

            

“Pushed them back into their seats.”

            

The whole table laughed. “You have to admit that’s good,” Asia said. “Even though Strauss is a crazy psycho.”

            

“Yeah, I don’t really like Anne and Tom either.”  Everyone added their assent to that:

            

“They make me puke. They’re all ‘in love.’”

            

“This week.”

            

After their first day of class, everyone just wanted to eat before going back to their dorms or to spend time on campus.  Since it was the first night, homework wasn’t a top priority.  JP’s friends all stared at the center of the table, but instead of the food appearing, Professor Exeter stood up in the front. “Attention please.  I hope that your first day of classes went well.  I have heard good reports overall, though a few of you need to remember that this is no longer summer vacation.  Please note that this week should be spent settling into your class routine and determining the amount of free time you are going to have this year.  All clubs, athletics, and organizations will begin next week.  Booths will be up in student services immediately after dinner for new students to learn about these opportunities.  Other students may sign up in the lobbies of their dormitories.  Enjoy your dinner. Mail will be arriving throughout the meal.”

            

Dinner appeared and everyone dove into the barbeque chicken. “What clubs are you guys doing?” Hari asked.

            

“I want to do intramural Quodpot,” Aaron said, to everyone’s laughter. “But I’ll probably end up in the quiz bowl again.”

            

“I’m doing Quodpot,” Asia said. 

            

“Dueling,” JP said definitely. 

            

“Gobstones.”

            

“Muggle entertainment.”

            

Mail arrived with much fanfare, owls swooping into the hall with the first day of notes from home.  Every sixth grader had an owl sitting next to him on the table, and JP was excited to see her own fly right to her arm. “Ace! What’s up?”

            

The brown barn owl handed her two small letters. “Mail for me.”

            _Joan,_

_I hope you had a good first day of class. Your dad started class today also, and he’s not home yet. He’ll write to you tomorrow._

_I just wanted to remind you to sign up for Apparating Lessons and to get involved with a few clubs, but please don’t sign up for Dueling Club. Joan, this is serious. Do not sign up for Dueling. I know every professor in that school. I will find out._

_Have a good night and say hi to Asia for me._

_Mom_

            

“Okay, so not dueling,” JP said.

            

The other letter read:

            _Dear Joan,_

_I am so happy my little niece is a fifth year! Your mother said your first day was today. I have a few weeks left, and I am enjoying the weather here in Ireland. I even saw a leprechaun yesterday. I sent you a shamrock and some good Irish candy. Your little owl is darling. I will see you soon._

_Love, Uncle Filius._

 

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            _Myra_ _,_

_I hope your first day was good and that your residents are behaving for you. Remember not to sign up for too much. You’re already so busy. If you could also make sure that Joan does not attempt to sign up for Dueling Club, that would be great. It’s all she ever talks about, but she knows how I feel about dueling._

_Your dad started classes today, but I haven’t been able to ask him about them yet. I’ll have him owl you tomorrow. I’ll be on campus next week to talk about the program with the seniors, so I will see you then._

_Mom_

Myra folded the letter carefully and tucked it into her pocket.  

            

“Who is it?” Blake, sitting next to her, asked.

            

“My mom.”

            

Myra looked down at her plate while Sadie and Wesley discussed the clubs they were involved in, and everyone talked about the tables they would have to staff at the fair for sixth graders.  Since Myra wasn’t a member of the leadership of any clubs, unlike everyone else at her table, she didn’t have much to add to the discussion. 

            

As dinner ended, she and Sadie lagged behind the rest of the group. “Want to wander the grounds?” Sadie asked.

            

“Yes.”

            

The night was still and the sun was beginning to set as they sat under a large oak tree on campus. “Lot of homework?” Sadie asked. 

            

“Not too bad. You?”

            

“Not yet. I could probably do a little reading.”

            

“Me too. Just not yet.”

            

Sadie laid back on the grass.  “I talked Wes into covering the Intramural table for the first hour. I can’t deal with the little kids right now.”

            

Myra was silent.

            

“You know who’s making me crazy this year?”

            

“Who?”

            

“Abby. She just needs to shut up. She thinks she’s so wonderful all of a sudden.” She put on an imitating voice. “With my RA activities and history training, I’ll be a perfect law enforcement official.” Myra laughed.  “Oh Professor McFarland, you’re so hot.”

 

            “Gross.”

 

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            _Jared,_

_How was your first day as a professor? I know you’re probably nervous, but you’ll get used to it all. The Department is going well, and I’ll be coming to the school next week to talk with the seniors. Talk me up to all of your students. I need to get at least five of them enrolled this year to keep my funding._

_Keep an eye on Myra and Joan for me, will you? I’d love it if Myra didn’t overwork herself and Joan actually focused on one of her classes. And do not let her duel, Jared. She will beg and plead, but do not allow it._

_Mom_

Jared read his letter away from the dining hall, in the teachers’ living room of their quarters.  He had to check the boys’ dorm at eight, but had a few minutes of peace to reflect on his day.  He was still shaking from his first day in front of students.  No one seemed to be too excited about history, except Myra’s friend Abby, who was actually beginning to worry him with her enthusiasm. 

            

He didn’t really think he had to worry about his sisters, and he was especially glad that neither one of them had made it into one of his classes.  However, his mother seemed to think that they needed to be looked after, but he trusted that her friendship with Aurelius Exeter and the fact that she used to be the principal of Salem would keep her well informed. 

            

Jared sat quietly on the sofa, looking around the living room, watching the professors interact with each other.  He could not believe that he was in the same league with some of his own former teachers, close enough to see them outside of the classroom. Clarence Nelson, from Potions, sat down beside him, a drink in his hands. “Best way to end the first day,” he said, his voice a low growl. 

            

Jared nodded.

            

“How are you doing, son?”

            

“Alright.”

            

“It’ll get easier. Trust me. After about twenty years, you won’t even hear what you’re saying anymore.  I don’t even know what potions we mixed today.  It could have been Love Potion, could have been Draught of the Living Death.  Beats me. Want a drink son?”

            

“That’s okay.”

            

“Take it.” Clytemnestra Strauss sat on his other side. “Thanks, Clarence,” she said, taking his offering of fire whiskey. 

            

Jared took the glass when she handed it to him. 

            

“You survive?”

            

“Yeah.”

            

“Good. Your first day’s over. That has to be some comfort, though I can’t promise it gets better.”

            

“How were your classes?”

            

“If one more couple attempts to make out in my class, I will freeze their lips together.”

            

Jared laughed, relaxing with the alcohol.  He had spent several weeks with these people, and he had found them very different than Joan’s stories.  For five years, he had heard how evil Professor Strauss was, but Clytemnestra wasn’t really pure evil – just overly stern and imposing.  And changed out of her dress robes into loose, gray house clothes and with her hair down, she was much less frightening.  Jared imagined JP’s face looking at her.

            

He was pulled out of his drunken discussion by Constance Armistead, who said, “Rounds, Jared.”  He gave her his hand, and she pulled him off the sofa. “Are you drunk?”

 

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Clive McFarland opened the door of his Cambridge, Massachusetts house.  “Clive, you’re back. I was just owling the kids.”

            

“Hi, Thea.” 

            

He sat down at the kitchen table next to her.  She was reading the evening wizard’s paper.  The house was much quieter than it had been over the summer, when Myra and Joan, and usually Asia, were constantly talking. 

            

“I made dinner,” she said without looking up from the paper.  

            

“It’s my night to do it.”

            

“That’s alright. It’s your first day.  And we weren’t too busy at the office.” Thea waved her wand to bring the food to the table. Clive sighed but ate dinner without complaint. 

            

“What’s new at the office?”

            

“With the schools in session, not too much.  All four have the same curriculum now, so we had to hire new people, but they seem to all be working out.  In a month, we have to evaluate them, but until then, I’m working on the Placement Program. You?”

            

“My classes were fine.  I don’t know why I took a 101, but all graduate stuff can get old.  I think I scared a few freshmen, though. Maybe they’ll drop.”

            

“That’s good. I’m going to Salem next week to recruit. Do you want to come?”

            

“Why?”

            

They looked at each other for a minute. “To visit the kids. To see Jared as a professor.”

            

“I don’t know.”

            

“You can wear wizard’s robes.”

            

Clive smiled weakly, looking pointedly away from her. “Sure.”

 

 


	3. Non-Magic Placement

“Thank you all for coming today. I’m Athena McFarland, and I’m the Secretary of Education for the Department of Magic, which means I coordinate the four magical schools in the United States.  I’ve also started a program called the Non-Magical Placement Program, and I want to talk to you about that this morning.”

            

In the small lecture hall, Myra sat amongst her friends, watching her mother in front, moving gracefully and speaking about her pet project.  Myra listened, though she knew every detail of the program and was not planning on enrolling in it herself.  Sadie and Jackson were also listening, but the rest of her group was clearly not paying attention. At breakfast, Abby and Wesley had treated everyone to their feelings on the Muggle program and how they would never be part of it. 

            

“In this program, we place magically educated students in non-magical communities.  We have found that the witches and wizards educated at such schools as Salem are well-equipped to help in non-magical situations.  Of course, no one will know that you are magical, and you will be offering aid without anyone realizing what you are doing.  Because of the requirements of the position, several years of non-magical studies are recommended.  However, we are looking for students with a variety of interests and backgrounds. You need not be of non-magical birth to join. So far, fifty students have been placed, in many fields, including as healers, aurors, law enforcement and government officials…”

            

Abby snorted at the mention of her chosen field.  Myra didn’t want to become a Muggle; that was all she knew, and she was afraid that if she didn’t have a chosen career within a few months, she would be immediately enrolled in her mother’s program. 

 

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Jared came into the lecture hall a few minutes late. His class was mostly seniors, so he had cancelled it and spent the morning with Constance, leaving campus to get away from the students.  They had almost survived two weeks as professors and needed to find a way to celebrate. “Let’s go out tonight,” she had said. “Some place way off campus. Non-magical.” He couldn’t argue with her.  He needed away as badly as she did. 

            

It took Jared a minute to notice his dad standing along the back wall. “Hi,” Jared whispered.

            

“Jared. How are you? How’s the job?”

            

“Fine. Dad?”

            

“Yeah.”

            

Jared breathed deeply. “Do people fall asleep a lot in your classes?”

            

“It’s history, Jared. It comes with the territory.  Yes, they fall asleep all the time.”

            

Jared sighed with relief and his father laughed. 

            

“Just blow something up. You’re a wizard.”

            

“If only it were that easy.” They leaned against the wall for a while, listening to Thea’s speech.  Jared thought of his last two classes of the week, then the promise of the night in Boston with Constance. 

 

“Your mother wants to do dinner tonight. Any plans?”

            

“Do Myra and Joan have clearance to leave?”

            

“I think so.”

            

“Yeah, I can do dinner. As long as it’s early.”

            

“I see.” Clive smiled, then turned back to the front. 

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The McFarlands sat around a rough wooden table at the Accio! Bar and Grill in magical Salem. JP and Myra were still in their school robes. Thea was happy with her speech and told the family that she was looking forward to the next year.  She still had to speak at three more schools, but she had met several students who were interested. 

            

“Congratulations,” Jared said. “I’ll encourage them, I promise.”

            

“Thanks, honey.”

            

“Hey, Mom,” JP said, biting into her sandwich. “Can I duel?”

            

Everyone rolled their eyes. They did not want to hear this discussion again. “No.”

            

“Why not? I’m getting good grades.”

            

“It’s the second week. Join another club. Don’t they have a basic charms club? You can work on your spells without actually fighting.”

            

“But why can’t I just duel?”   

            

“Joan, I’m done with this discussion.” JP looked down, dejected. “Myra, how’s school going? Do you want to do any job shadowing?”

            

Myra mumbled a few non-committal responses.  Jared caught her eye and changed the subject. “Mom, Homecoming’s in a few weeks. Are you coming?”

            

“I don’t know. They say all alumni are invited, but it’s pretty much a school dance. I’ve supervised my share of them. I assume you’re going to be one of the guards, considering it’s your first year and they can order you to do practically anything.”

            

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

            

JP groaned.

            

“What were you planning on doing?”

            

“Nothing.”  

 

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Jared and Constance met in the living room of the teacher’s quarters, having locked the students in their dormitories.  They were both in Muggle clothing and laughed upon seeing each other.  Even though they were both familiar enough with Muggle fashion to dress correctly, it was still a major change from their work week look.  Jared was in simple jeans, but he noticed how Constance looked like a different person, much less shy than usual in her skirt and high heels. 

            

“Ready?” she squealed. 

            

They walked across campus, hoping that students weren’t looking out their windows.  They had to make it off the school grounds to be able to apparate, and they had just reached the border when two figures apparated next to them. “Professors,” Aurelius said. “Good evening. You have the night off, I suppose?”

            

“Yes, sir.”

            

“Enjoy yourselves.” He walked briskly away.  

            

Clytemnestra looked them both over and smirked, then moved away in a swirl of green robes. 

            

“Where were they?”

            

“I have no idea.”

 

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The club in Boston was loud, the bass up as high as possible.  Constance and Jared had no problem getting in, which Jared found strange with his limited experience in Muggle places like this.  He had been to plenty of Muggle establishments with his father, and his mother had wanted her children to be well-versed in both magical and non-magical ways of life.  However, ever since he went to Salem, his acquaintance had become increasingly more and more magical.  He could not even remember the names of his non-magical friends from before his days at Salem. 

            

Jared allowed himself to be pulled onto the dance floor, where he moved awkwardly among the pulsating crowd.  He was quickly reminded that he, like his geeky father, was a history teacher, and that no amount of magic or flashing lights could change that.  Constance, however, was a natural. 

            

“Are you?...you know,” he shouted over the music. 

            

“No, I’m not.  It’s in my family a long way back.  My parents don’t even like them.”

            

They were talking in code, but Jared understood.  There weren’t many wizards left with fully magical bloodlines, and most didn’t boast about it.  But they still existed.  Jared, like everyone in the magical world, had heard of the Armisteads, but he didn’t want Constance to know.  From what he had heard, they would never have tolerated a daughter who taught Muggle Studies.  

            

“It’s really fun going home for Christmas. They’re not fans of the job.”

            

“I should think not.”

            

“What about you?”

            

“My dad.”

            

“Full, or born?”

            

“Full, no magic.”

            

“That’s great.” 

            

Jared had never really thought about it that way, but he also didn’t teach Muggle Studies.  He tried to dance, but only succeeded in tripping over his feet.  As one song ended and someone climbed up onto the stage at the front, Constance shouted, “I’m getting a drink.  One that doesn’t burn on the way down or taste like pumpkin. You want anything?”

            

“Sure. Whatever you’re getting.”

            

She pushed her way through the crowd, who were still dancing, but looking toward the front of the club.  A man in tight silver pants and a long silver wig took a microphone. “Hello,” he crooned in a false woman’s voice. “Having a good night?”

The audience cheered. “I’d like to sing a little song for you, if that’s alright.”

            

Jared watched in detached interest. Constance came back with a drink. He couldn’t tell what it was but drank it anyway as the performer began to sing. “And every little thing he does is magic. Everything he do just turns me on.”  The crowd was beginning to sway.  They finished their drinks and Jared bought more.  The singer finished to drunken hooting and climbed off the stage, making his way to the bar. “Anything,” he said, his voice much different than on stage.  The bartender handed Jared his glasses as the singer leaned against the bar. “With someone?”

            

Jared looked behind him to make sure the question was aimed in his direction. “A friend from work.” He was nervous but managed to say, “You sounded good.”

            

The man snorted, then took a shot of whiskey.  “Right.”

            

“Sorry.”

            

“No, that’s rude of me. Thank you. You don’t look like you come here much.”

            

“I don’t.”

            

“What do you do?”

            

“I’m a teacher.”

            

“Huh.” He looked Jared over for a minute, then extended his hand. “I’m the Lady Angelica…Or Troy. I’m Troy.”

            

“Jared McFarland.”

            

“Hey. You know,  I don’t do this usually, but…here’s my number.” He handed Jared a piece of paper then disappeared back into the crowd.  Constance came up to Jared. “Get lost?”

            

“Uh…no. I got this.”

            

She laughed. “A Non-magic boy. I’ve been looking for one of those for years. Call him.”

            

By the time they left the club, Jared and Constance were incredibly drunk.  They walked down an alleyway and took each other’s hands, then apparated.  They ended up near the Accio! Bar, which was teeming with witches and wizards, and fairly far from the school.  “We should never apparate drunk,” Jared said.

            

“I think it’s illegal, actually.”

            

They made their way slowly back to the school entering the teachers’ quarters as quietly as possible.  Successfully inside, they looked around, surprised that the lights were still on. Clytemnestra was at the table, looking through a stack of papers. “Why, hello,” she said when they entered.  Constance ducked into her room, but Jared sat next to Clytemnestra at the table. 

            

“You are completely drunk.”

            

“A little.”

            

“Have a good evening?”

            

“Yeah, you?”

            

“Absolutely”

            

Jared hiccupped. “Looks like fun.”

            

“Shut up, McFarland. Some of us care about this school.”

            

“What are you working on?”

            

“Curriculum review. Exeter doesn’t want to increase Muggle Studies, but we’re getting a lot of pressure from DC.”

            

“From my mother, you mean.”

            

She looked up and considered for a moment. “Not just her, but yes.  She believes that witches and wizards have an obligation to help the Muggle…non-magical community, so she wants to integrate more of us into their world.”

            

“What does Exeter think?”

            

“He thinks that we only have an obligation to ourselves.  We know more than they do. Why should we help them when all they’ll do is fear us?”

            

“What do you think?”

            

“I’m trying to decide. I don’t know, you’re the Muggle.  Do they need us?”

 

 


	4. Homecoming

Thea had barely gotten in the door of her office when Edison Constantine followed her in the door and shut it behind him. “Athena,” he said without emotion. “I need to speak with you.”

            

She sat on the edge of her desk. “About what?”  She already knew the answer, but she had to be respectful. Constantine was the Secretary of Magic, the highest ranking magical official in government.  She had never particularly liked him, but he wasn’t a terrible politician, and he could always be relied on to give honest information.

            

“Non-Magical Placement.”

            

“Of course.” It was all she had talked about in the last few weeks. 

            

“Exeter is willing to fight you all the way on this.  Not only does he not want you to expand, he wants to shut you down entirely.”

            

“What’s his objection to the program?”

            

“He thinks someone will eventually blow their cover, and the whole wizarding world will be compromised.”

            

“How likely is that? We have magic. If someone does ‘blow their cover,’ we can always modify the memories of the witnesses and revoke that wizard’s funding. Wizards in the past have admitted to magic without major consequences.  If anyone in the non-magical world claims to possess magical powers, he’s written off as mentally unstable.”

            

“But if they have evidence to back it up…”

            

“Ed, I don’t think it will come to that. I think we’re safe.  What’s Exeter’s real motive? Does he want all of our resources focused on ourselves instead of helping anyone else?”

            

Edison paused and sat in a chair opposite Thea’s desk.  “Is that a terrible argument? He’s not alone on this. Magical pride still exists, even with all of your new political correctness. Do you think the Armisteads, or any of the other families with money, have changed their minds? Just because you stopped calling them Muggles doesn’t mean the wizarding world thinks any more highly of them.  They dislike us, and given the chance, they won’t be afraid to show it.”

            

“We’re not asking them to love us or even to recognize us.  We’re trying to use our abilities to better the entire world.”

            

“I know where you’re coming from. You don’t have to tell me.  Tell the papers. I need a press conference with numbers and statistics. Prove we’re doing this right and I’ll back whatever you say.”

            

Thea looked down, annoyed with all of the opposition. “Fine.”

            

“Good. And the Salem Homecoming is tomorrow. Make an appearance.”

 

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JP stood next to Hari in Charms 5 Advanced, her first class of the day.  Tuesdays and Thursdays meant fewer classes, but longer class periods.  It was much harder to stay focused.  She was excited for Homecoming the following day, mostly because they didn’t have class, but also because of the dance. 

            

“Aguamenti,” Hari shouted, and a trickle of water emerged from the end of his wand.  The class was learning the water casting spell, and they were all outside in the gardens to do it. “If we’re going to make a mess, we’re going to be useful,” Professor Fortescue had said. 

            

JP laughed. “I think you watered one flower.”

            

“Let’s see you do it.”  

            

JP was distracted by an owl flying overhead. She wondered if it was Ace coming to bring her a note.  “McFarland,” the professor called. “Let’s see a spell.”

            

“Aguamenti!” she shouted. A jet of water sprayed out of JP’s wand, practically knocking her backwards onto the ground.

            

“Not bad, not bad.”

            

JP turned to Hari. “Aguamenti.”

 

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Myra copied down notes in her Ancient Runes class, concentrating on the text in front of her.  She was happy to be away from the rest of her group, who considered Runes a dead language, which if she were honest, it probably was.  She looked up when a floating memo flew into the classroom. Professor Strauss caught the paper and read it over quickly. “McFarland, what is this symbol?” She pointed to a small drawing on the blackboard.

            

“Dark wizard.”

            

She held out the pass. “Go.”

            

Myra took the paper and read it while walking out of the classroom while everyone watched her.  The pass read “Myra McFarland from Ancient Runes to Potions 2.”  Myra didn’t know why she would be needed in Potions 2, but she walked quickly to the Potions hallway and knocked on Professor Nelson’s door. “Myra,” he said, excusing himself into the hallway. “Thanks for coming. I actually need you to go to the girls’ bathroom.  There was a fight about Homecoming, and you’re the RA…”

            

“Who is it?”

            

“Allison Smith.”

            

Myra tried to remember who she was on her way to the closest bathroom.  Inside, she could hear sniffling coming from one of the stalls. “Allison?”  The girl didn’t answer but continued crying. “Allison, please come out. It’s Myra.” The stall door slowly opened and the small seventh grader came out, her eyes red. “What’s going on?”

 

Through a mess of sobs and sniffing, Myra could barely make out the story: “Travis … going to ask me…Elmira…I’m not going…they’re so mean…”

            

“He was going to ask you, but he asked your friend?”

            

Allison let out a sob. “Now I’m not going.”

            

“Why not?”

            

“They’ll be together.”

            

“Are any of your other friends going?”

            

“Yes.” She hiccupped. 

            

“Do they have dates?”

            

“No.”

            

“Can’t you go with them?”

            

Allison looked at her as if the possibility had never occurred before. “Maybe.”

            

“Why don’t you ask them?” Myra didn’t know if it would work. She hoped the girls would go along with it.  From what she had seen, Allison had a small group of girlfriends who would have to be willing to go to the dance with her. “You might see another boy you like.”

            

“Okay.”

            

Myra stayed with Allison for a while, then walked her back to Potions, where Professor Nelson waved at her. Allison rejoined a group of girls, and the crisis seemed to be at least somewhat pacified. Myra walked quickly back to the languages and history wing, passing her brother’s class. He was talking to a room of sleeping freshmen and sophomores, not seeming to notice that no one was paying attention. 

            

Myra stopped in the hall in front of her classroom.  Professors Strauss and Exeter were in the hall, whispering to each other. “Later, I have a class,” Strauss was saying.

            

“We need to discuss this now. They’re all over us. Soon enough the school will be a Muggle breeding ground.”

            

“By the end of today? I have a class, Aurelius.” She noticed Myra lingering in the hall. “In the room, McFarland. We’ve had enough interruptions today.”

            

Myra moved as quickly as she could without running.  Strauss followed her, and on seeing a student standing near the door eavesdropping, whipped her wand in his direction.  His wand flew into her hand while he tumbled backwards, hitting his head against the wall and slumping to the floor.  “Damn it,” Strauss muttered, then revived the boy and sent him to the nurse. “Back to work.”

            

By the next hour, everyone had heard about Strauss’ outburst.  Myra had retold the story to her friends in Charms, then Professor Fortescue had made them end the discussion and set up to practice stunning spells.  “How did she do it?” Myra asked him as everyone started to practice.  She didn’t really want to work on charms anyway, but it was required for all seven years of school. 

            

“Do what?” Professor Fortescue stepped away from a misaimed spell. 

            

“Knock him out. It looked like a disarming spell. Why did he fly across the room?”

            

“That’s never happened to you?”

            

“No.”

            

“The first element of a spell is intention. Even if you intend one spell, it also reads your feeling. Professor Strauss was probably very angry.”

            

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On Friday, Jared walked into a Muggle café in Cambridge, looking around for Troy.  A young man waved from a table, and Jared sat beside him.  “I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”  Troy did look very different outside of the club, in jeans and a tee shirt instead of shining performance clothes. “I also didn’t know if you’d come. It’s been hard to find a time to do this.”

            

“I know.  I’ve had to work.”

            

“You’re a teacher?”

            

“At a boarding school. In Salem.”

            

“Salem? That’s far away.”

            

“Kind of.”

            

“If I had known, I would have met you somewhere.”

            

“That’s alright. Transportation isn’t hard for me.” It had been a while since Jared had really interacted with a Muggle who wasn’t related to someone magical, and he had forgotten how much he had to conceal. “So how long have you been a singer?”

            

“Oh, that’s not my only job. I’m in law school. Harvard, actually. That’s expensive, so I do what I can.  I work for a law firm too.”

            

“Wow.”

            

“Sorry, I don’t mean to show off. What do you teach?”

            

“History.”

            

“That was never my best subject.”

            

“Oh, well…My dad teaches it too. At Harvard.” Jared ordered coffee from the waiter. “I miss this stuff.”

            

“What, no coffee in the boarding school?”

            

Jared realized his mistake. “It’s terrible…Tell me about law school.”

            

They were at the café for more than two hours, when Jared said, “I’m really sorry, I have to get back.”

            

“Oh…alright.”

            

“I would stay, really. It’s just…it’s Homecoming at the school, and I have to supervise.”

 

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Thea quickly located Jared during her appearance at the Salem Academy Homecoming. “This is nice.” It really was beautiful, with the entire campus decorated in tiny white lights and draped in gold and blue silk. Jared nodded, though he had already broken up two fights involving stolen boyfriends or girlfriends.  He thought of Troy, back in Cambridge, having a normal Friday night, and wished he was there. 

            

“Jared, are you listening?”

            

“What?”

            

“I said, Thanksgiving, make sure you and the girls are home. Filius is coming.”

            

JP walked by at the perfect time. “Uncle Filius is coming? Yes!” She trotted off amongst her friends.

            

“Yes, and he wants to see everyone.  You don’t have plans, do you?”

            

Jared was lost again, back at a café in Cambridge. “No, no plans.”

 


	5. Uncle Filius

Jared, Myra, and JP walked across campus together, ready to apparate home for the Thanksgiving break. JP was beside herself, talking about the weekend. “I love when JP and Filius get together,” Jared whispered to Myra. 

            

“I know. He won’t be here until tomorrow. He had class, so we have a few hours first. I like Uncle Filius and all, but…”

            

“A real break would be nice, I know.”

            

“You should go out before.”

            

“And do what?”

            

“I don’t know. What’s his name?”

            

Jared laughed a little. “Troy.” Then, wanting to change the subject, said, “Joan, do not apparate on your own. You only have a permit. You have to be holding on to one of us.”

            

“Did he go to Salem?” Myra asked persistently.

            

“He wouldn’t have been admitted, if you know what I mean.”

            

“He’s not from the Northeast United States?” 

            

Jared laughed. “He’s a Muggle.”

            

“Can Ace apparate?” JP interrupted.

            

“If he’s with you.”

 

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Jared returned from his date the next day, early in the morning. Clive was at the table, reading the morning paper. “Good morning. Have a good night?”

            

“I’m going to change.”

            

“Sorry, Jared. You’re an adult. But if you were on a date and you haven’t introduced her to us, I’m going to be very angry.”

            

“Don’t worry dad. Is Filius here yet?”

            

“Not yet.”

            

Thea came out of her bedroom and began moving food out of the refrigerator.  “Need help?” Clive asked. 

            

“No, no. I’ve got it.” 

            

JP careened out of her room as the fireplace lit up with a green flame. “Uncle Filius,” she squealed. 

            

The tiny form of Filius Flitwick stepped out of the fireplace. “Hello everyone.” He handed Thea a bottle before JP had the chance to embrace him. “It’s so good to see you.”

            

Thea put Jared and Myra to work setting the table while JP and Filius played a game of Gobstones on the living room floor. “Filius,” Thea called. “What’s new at the school?”

            

“Everything’s going well, Athena. My charms classes are exceptionally talented this year.  Do you remember Minerva McGonagall?”

            

“Yes.”

            

“She’s retiring at the end of the year. I say it’s about time. She needs a vacation.”

            

“What about you?”

            

“Me? I have at least ten good years of teaching left in me.”

            

“Okay, Filius. I know I couldn’t last that long as a Professor.  Especially of Charms. Charms wore me out after a few years.”

            

“They can be a challenge.”

            

The family sat down at the dining room table as a turkey on a platter flew in from the kitchen, placing itself gently on the table.  JP and Filius were covered with the thick black liquid emitted by the Gobstones. “We should get cleaned up,” Filius said.

            

“Aguamenti.” JP sprayed him with a thin stream of water.

            

“Joan,” Thea said harshly. “Are you supposed to be doing magic here?”

            

“It’s alright, Athena. That was a very effective Charm.  Are you doing well in your class?”

            

“I guess.”

            

Everyone began to serve themselves, Clive pouring five glasses of pumpkin juice and iced tea for himself. “Never could get used to that stuff,” he said apologetically to Filius, who had brought the bottle from England. 

            

“It’s an acquired taste…Tell me about your classes,” he said to Myra and JP. “Which is your favorite?”

            

“Ancient Runes,” Myra said.

            

“That is a very important subject, no matter what anyone may tell you.”

            

Myra smiled, then looked back at her plate. 

            

“Joan?”

            

“I like Charms.”

            

“You’re just trying to impress me.”

            

“I do. And I like Non-Magic.”

            

“What?” Thea said angrily, and JP flinched.  She had not meant to mention her enrollment in that class. “Why are you in Non-Magic studies?”

            

“I like it. We get to watch movies and look at art.”

            

“You can do that at home.”

            

“But we never do.”

            

Thea was seething, but decided not to undergo the argument until after Filius left. Filius, looking to change the subject, said, “Are you in the Charms club?”

            

“Yeah, but I want to duel.”

            

“You do?” Filius sounded excited.

            

“Joan.” The discussion was over with glares aimed at both JP and Filius. Myra and Jared looked at each other and smiled. JP looked angry for a moment, but spaced out as Thea and Filius began to discuss Edison Constantine and England’s Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shaklebolt.

            

After their Thanksgiving dinner, everyone was too full to do anything. Clive and Jared sat on the sofa, watching the parade on television while Myra lie on the ground in front of them, reading through her Defensive Magic textbook.  JP was in her bedroom, feeding Ace scraps of food she had sneaked from the table, and Thea and Filius were in the kitchen, listening to wizarding radio and washing the dishes.  

            

When Ace had finished his dinner and fallen suddenly asleep, JP came out of her room to find something to do, but she stopped when she heard her mother and uncle discussing her in the kitchen. 

            

Filius was sitting on the kitchen counter, directing a towel to dry the dishes, while Thea was in front of the sink, waving her wand over the stack of plates. Soap suds were flying around the room.            

            

“I don’t quite see the problem,” Filius was saying. 

            

“We both know about dueling.”

            

“Exactly. That’s why it should be fine.”

            

“Dueling’s illegal here, except in tournament.  And they’re working on that now, too.  It’s not the same as it was thirty years ago, Filius.  There’s enough violence in the world.  We should be working to fix it instead of adding to it.”

            

“I agree with that.  But sometimes it is important for wizards to be able to defend themselves.”

            

“There’s no guarantee that tournament dueling will help with that.  I know, Filius.”

            

“It’s your decision. She’s your daughter. I think she would be an excellent dueler.  She is passionate.”

            

“But not focused.”

            

JP was happy to hear that Uncle Filius was on her side, but not happy that she would probably still not be able to duel.  She made herself known to the adults, then said, “Hey, Uncle Filius, want to see my owl?”

            

They were in her room, playing with Ace, when Thea shouted, “Filius!”

            

He and JP ran into the kitchen, where she was still listening to the radio, but had turned it up much louder. Jared, Myra, and Clive had joined her. 

            

“What is it?”

            

“Listen.”

            

The newsperson on the radio was speaking urgently: “His death is completely unexpected and very suspicious.  Inspection of his office informs us that he had been poisoned.  Investigations are pending as to what the particular poison was, but expert Clarence Nelson of Salem Academy notes that the elements are very rare and only found in experimental situations such as laboratories and Department of Magic offices.”

            

“Inside job,” Thea whispered.

            

“Who’s dead?”

            

“Ed Constantine.”

            

“No acting Secretary has been named, though the entire Auror force has been called in for the weekend.  On Monday, the wizards’ council will be asked to name an acting leader until elections can be held.  For more on this story, stay tuned to…”

            

Everyone started talking at once.  “What does this mean?” Filius asked. “Are there any dark wizards at large here? Did the Secretary have any enemies?”

            

“I don’t think so.  He was well-tolerated.”

            

“Are there any controversies right now?”

            

“There’s one.”

 


	6. Back to School

Everyone was talking about the death of the Secretary of Magic on Monday, and a replacement still had not been named.  The council was taking longer than expected deliberating, and the American wizards were acting without a leader. Students were unusually quiet during breakfast, reading over the morning paper instead of discussing their weekends. 

            

“I don’t want discussions about this in your classes,” Aurelius Exeter told the professors at the staff table. “They’re here to learn, not to panic about poison or dark wizards. No conspiracy theories. Just teach the subjects I pay you for.”

            

Over the last few hours, many of the staff had been debating the cause of Contantine’s death, and the theories were becoming more bizarre with each passing minute.  A member of the Astronomy staff was convinced it was a revival of an old British dark wizard movement, while Clarence Nelson was claiming that potion ingredients were missing from his stores. 

 

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Myra’s friends were deep in discussion about their theories.  Apparently, Wesley had heard something from his contact in the Department of Mysteries about a prophecy.  Myra herself was too tired to think about it, since the seventh graders had refused to go into their rooms until she promised them that the school would not be in any danger from the evil wizards who were about to attack them.  It was with relief that she left the breakfast table for Arithmency, where Professor Eigen was sure to bore everyone to sleep and make them forget about the controversy. She was sure Eigen had not even heard of the Secretary’s death. 

 

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JP didn’t understand politics enough to really care what people were talking about, though people dying was admittedly worrying.  She went to Non-Magic studies hoping for a movie, but was instead greeted with people worrying about the fate of their families, all of whom seemed to have some far-fetched connection to a Department official. JP, whose mother was actually a Department official, didn’t make any comments. 

            

Professor Armistead tried to pacify the class, telling them that Aurors were working on the situation. “They’re the best resource we could hope for, and until they find anything out, we just have to try to take our minds off of things.  Let’s watch a movie. I’ll find a comedy, then we can discuss Non-Magical feelings about humor. This is a difficult film, so watch for the Non-Magical culture references.”

            

Professor Strauss’ class opened the same way, with everyone talking about the murder.  The students had had several hours to pick up on the weirder theories, especially those who had already been to Astronomy or Herbology, where the professors seemed almost predisposed to strange ideas featuring fate. “I am so glad we don’t have Divination here,” Strauss muttered, before turning to the class and saying, “I don’t want to hear any more about this.  Merlin knows I won’t be able to stop you discussing it all night in your dorms, but for now, I am going to teach Mermish, and you are going to learn it.  I assure all of you, you are safe in this school.”

            

JP started dinner by informing her friends that she would rather talk about anything than the Secretary. “So this movie I saw in Muggle Studies, it was so funny.”

            

“What was it called?” Asia asked. 

            

“ _Airplane_.”

            

“That is funny.”

            

“You are so lucky to be Muggle-born,” Toni said. “It would be so much fun.”

            

“I guess.”

            

“What’s an airplane like?” JP asked Asia, the only Muggle-born at their table. 

            

“It’s like Floo Powder, I guess. But it takes forever. And it’s like a car, except you’re with hundreds of people and it kind of smells bad.”

            

Asia had everyone’s attention, and the discussion continued until Ace swooped onto the table. “You always get mail,” Aaron complained. 

            _Dear Joan,_

_It was so good to see you this weekend. I hope that school continues to go well for you.  Keep working on the Charms.  Please let me know what you would like for Christmas. It probably should not have to do with dueling._ _J Uncle Filius. _

Ace dropped off a small package of candy. “Bertie Bott’s!” JP shouted, passing the package around for her friends to take pieces. 

            

“Where do you always get this candy?”

            

“My uncle in England.”

            

After dinner, JP, McKenna, and Asia wandered the campus while the other three were at their clubs.  They watched the sunset, avoiding homework, then JP decided to owl Filius back and thank him for the candy.  The three girls walked slowly toward the owlery, passing Jared and Professor Armistead on the way.  “What’s up?” JP asked. 

            

“We’re about to check the dorms.  Aren’t you supposed to be in there?”

            

“We have ten minutes. I’m just going to the owelry.”

            

“Be inside on time, Joan. I’m serious.”

            

“Okay, okay.” They walked just as slowly, making it to the owlery, and JP wrote her note and attached it to Ace’s leg. “Just take it whenever,” she told the bird, and he hooted in reply. 

            

As they made to leave the owlery and go back to their dorm, they walked right into Professors Exeter and Strauss, who looked to be patrolling the campus. “Get to your dorms,” Exeter said offhandedly, but Strauss was looking menacing, standing tall above the girls. 

            

“What are you doing out?”

            

“Owling.”

            

“Do you realize what time it is?”

            

“We have two minutes.”

            

“No you don’t. You’re two minutes late. Go to your dorm. Run.” She fired sparks out of her wand for effect.  JP, Asia, and McKenna ran. 

            

Behind them, Professor Exeter said, “Clytemnestra, take it easy. We’re not under attack.”

            

“Take no chances.”

 

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Myra sat with various girls on the sixth floor until curfew, telling the scared girls that no one else was going to be poisoned.  When she made her round of the sophomore floor, JP and Asia were still in McKenna and Toni’s room, apparently telling a story about Professor Strauss. Myra knew JP’s feelings about Strauss, so she didn’t take it very seriously, but JP took a long time to move into her own room. “She seems suspicious. So does Exeter. They’re both weird.”

            

“Get to bed. Come on. I’ll tell mom.”

            

JP sighed and pulled Asia off the floor and the two girls went to their own room, but made no effort to look like they were going to sleep. 

            

Back on the first floor, Myra’s girlfriends were sitting together on the floor of her room. “Hi,” Sadie said, her voice tired.

            

“How was everyone?”

            

“Scared.”

            

“I know. What do we do?”

            

“There’s not much we can do,” Beatrice said. 

            

Abby lay back on the floor. “I don’t know what we do.  Of course they’re scared. This could be really bad.  Wizards are mad at each other because of this Muggle thing.  Sorry…this non-magical thing.  No offense Myra.”

            

Myra assumed Abby was talking about her mother. “No, that’s okay.”

            

“Not to point fingers, but Constantine was in a league with her.  And other powerful wizards are more into ‘Magic is Might.’”

 

 


	7. Panic

 

Thea McFarland had spent weeks fighting with reporters. Yes, she supported Edison Constantine. No, she knew nothing of his death beside what was covered in the papers. No, she did not believe a dark wizard was rising. Yes, her husband was non-magic. Yes, the Non-Magic Placement Program was continuing.  No, she did not believe she had made serious enemies. 

            

The last point may have been a lie.  She worried constantly about enemies of the non-magic program, but they couldn’t really be connected to the death of the Secretary of Magic.  Other than Aurelius Exeter, who was an opponent in theory only, the Armistead family was in vocal opposition.  They were unspoken suspects in the case, since they had always opposed Constantine’s tolerance toward non-magic peoples and non-magic born wizards. However, they, like more old families, gave enough money to be ignored. 

            

At the office, she again defended her program. “We have no indication that the Non-Magic Placement has anything to do with this murder,” she shouted to one of the Aurors. “Just because this has been a controversial issue for the Department does not mean that anyone wanted the Secretary dead because of it. He supported it, yes, and others didn’t. But we need to investigate his personal life, his past.  Someone may have wanted him dead for other reasons.”

            

The Auror took slow notes. “You’re not a suspect,” he said quietly, as if he would be reprimanded for informing her. “We know the two of you were on the same side, so that would be ridiculous.  But if you keep protesting this investigation, we may start to look into you.  We’re not looking to take away your funding or shut you down.”

            

Thea didn’t argue, but her funding had already been ‘temporarily discontinued’ pending the investigation.  When she left the office that night, three hours later than usual, she apparated home angrily, stumbling as she appeared in the living room.  Clive was at the kitchen table as he always was when she came home, reading over papers from his class. “Long day?”

            

She collapsed into a chair next to him. “Very.”

            

“What’s going on?”

            

“Nothing, nothing. The investigation.”

            

“Do they know anything?”

            

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

            

Clive looked back down at his papers. 

            

“Any word from the kids?”

            

“No.”

            

“I just wonder how things are going at that school.”

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“And the Goblin Rebellion of 1854 marks one of the biggest interracial challenges of the wizarding community.  This conflict started-” Jared looked up from his notes to see two of the freshman girls standing in the aisle.  “What’s going on?”

            

“You have no idea!”

            

“Your father is a murderer. So is your whole family. My parents know. What, are you going to kill me now?”

            

“Don’t talk about my family. We’re real wizards. We don’t need to kill anyone to prove it.” She pulled out her wand.

            

“Girls,” Jared shouted. “Sit down and stop this.”

            

“You think you’re the only real wizards?” The other student pulled her wand from her robes. 

            

“Stop,” Jared ordered, pulling his wand out and pointing it toward them. “Expelliarmus.” Both wands flew toward him.  He caught them as the two girls flew at each other, throwing punches.  Jared didn’t know how to stop them without stunning them or hitting any other students by accident.

            

“Girl fight!” one of the boys yelled, and the other students stood and began yelling. 

            

“Silence,” Jared shouted.

            

There was a loud crack at the door, a sound like a canon. Jared looked away from the fight.  Clytemnestra aimed her wand between the girls and threw them apart, sending them both flying across the room. “Both of you, detention. With me.” All of the other students were back in their seats, staring at their desks and not saying a word. “Professor McFarland, a word.”

            

Jared, ashamed, followed her into the hallway. “What was that?”’ She demanded.

            

“I think it had something to do with the murder.”

            

“Of course it did. That was Olivia Carnegie. She’s one of the Armisteads.”

            

“Really? Her name…”

            

“Her mother was Octavius Armistead’s oldest daughter, Constance’s sister. The whole family is suspect, being just about the only pure blood wizards left in this country.  They hate Muggles. You’d be well-advised to remember that. There are conflicts in this school, McFarland.  They’re always below the surface, it just takes something like this to bring them out. Be aware.”

            

“Thank you.”

            

“Oh, that? It was just a fight. You’ll get used to those. I’ve been here five years, that’s at least twenty fights.”

            

“In any case, thank you.”

            

Jared took a moment to breathe, and Clytemnestra didn’t leave him.  Aurelius sprinted down the hall, skidding to a halt when he saw them. “Professors, we have a problem.”

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Clive arrived at his first class early enough to hear the students as they assembled, taking out their books and going over their weekend plans.  He was giving a quiz to his only 101 class, and he didn’t know what to expect in terms of grades.  For one of the first times in his long career as a professor, he didn’t really care.  It was Harvard.  They would be fine.  He thought about the wizarding world, the world he had married into and still didn’t understand.  Jared, just like him, was holding down a class just like this, but his world was completely different.  Clive didn’t understand the politics behind the Secretary’s murder, and he didn’t see how his wife was involved.  He couldn’t get her to reveal anything, so he wondered if she was safe, if she knew what to do now. 

            

“So then the cop starts twitching. It’s so creepy.”

            

“What did the guy do?” 

            

“He said some weird words. They were analyzing the tape.  They think it was ‘Crucio.’”

            

Clive looked up sharply.  That was a word he knew, and he was hearing it in the wrong context. “What are you talking about?”

            

“Didn’t you see it on the news? This car chase in Nebraska. The man gets out of the car, and he’s holding this wooden stick and he says Crucio, and the cop starts twitching on the ground.  He said it really hurt. Then this other cop points his gun and says something else, and the twitching just stops, then he says something and the perp falls down and can’t move at all. It’s all on tape.”

            

“How did that happen?”

            

“I don’t know. It’s like magic.” 

            

Clive waited until the end of class so as not to look suspicious, then drove as quickly as he could across town, praying that Thea had not left the house yet.  When he crashed in the door, dropping his briefcase, he found her taking Floo Powder out of the jar near the fireplace. “Stop,” he shouted.

            

“Clive?”

            

“Did you hear?”

            

“Two of my Placements revealed themselves. I need to get to the office.”

            

“What happened?”

            

“I don’t know. We have to figure it out.  The witnesses have already had their memories modified.”

            

“It doesn’t matter. They have it on tape. It’s on the news.”

            

“What?”

            

Clive turned on the TV, searching for a 24 hour news station. “Of course, this is the main story of the day.  A police officer and a suspect for possession of cocaine ended a car chase by screaming seemingly nonsense words at each other.  This would seem like an everyday instance of mental instability, except these words seemed to have effect.  And what’s even more strange is that none of the witnesses captured on film remember the events.  Experts are being called in to see if this is all an elaborate hoax.”            

            

“Let’s hope they say yes.” Before Clive could stop her, Thea threw Floo Powder into the fire. “Department of Magic.”

 

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At lunch, Exeter pulled all of the teachers into one of the empty classrooms.  “We are in serious trouble.  Our entire world is compromised, and we have no Secretary of Magic to make an executive judgment. I am going to the Department to see what action, if any, we need to take. Until then, do not say anything to the students. I’m sure they’ll be hearing about it by mail tonight, so I will announce it at dinner. All of you need to stay calm. Take extra precautions. Do not hold class outside today.  I will be back in time for dinner, and I will require another of these meetings. Any questions?”

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Thea ran down the Education Department’s hallway, crashing into her office and rifling through her files.  She located the document she was looking for, her files on the Placed wizards.  She pulled out the two files on the subjects in question – the police officer and the suspect in the car chase, who turned out to be a physician placed in Kansas City, who had fled state lines under the influence of one of the non-magical medicines found in his office.  Both were being held for questioning in Nebraska, but they were in a non-magic jail, and it was only a matter of time before they could escape. 

            

Thea’s door opened without anyone knocking.  She quickly vanished the rest of the files and turned toward the two men, both of whom were staring solemnly at her. “Athena,” Aurelius Exeter said. “I believe you know Mr. Armistead.”  Thea did know Octavius Armistead; everyone did.  He was the richest wizard in America.  “The council has approved of him as the new Secretary of Magic.” Thea tried to contain the shudder.  The council had probably not gone through the usual scrutiny needed to replace the Secretary mid-term, but chose the loudest voice during a time of crisis. 

            

“Pleased to meet you.”  Armistead walked slowly through her office, examining everything. “I’m sure this is a difficult time for you.”

            

“For all of us.”

            

Armistead snorted. “Ms. McFarland, you know why we’re here. We need the information on the remaining wizards. Everyone who is out there pretending to be a Muggle. We’re calling them all back.  This program, while a valiant effort, is ultimately a risk.”

            

“The memories have been modified.”

            

“Not without cost.  This has been a difficult situation to clear up.”

            

“But you have cleared it up.”

            

“Yes.  The entire Midwestern Auror force had to be sent to modify memories. And we can’t obliviate all of the Muggles who watched it on television.  I’ve spoken with the local police in Lincoln, Nebraska.” He paused to let Aurelius laugh. “Really, confunded them.  The two men in question are to confess to creating a hoax in order to become famous.  Then they will be transferred to another prison, whereupon we will take custody of them and try them for use of magic in the presence of Muggles.”

            

“They have confessed?”

            

“They will.” He smiled. “Now all we need are the names of the other wizards. Turn them over or be in contempt yourself.”

            

Thea looked at the two men, who looked smug and pleased with themselves.  She had to admit that their plan worked, but she didn’t think that recalling the wizards and undoing all of her work on the program was necessary. “I am not comfortable turning over their names so they can be persecuted.  I would rather contact the individuals and warn them of the danger. No doubt they are aware.”

            

Aurelius advanced on her. “You don’t understand, do you Athena? You would rather help the damn Muggles than make sure we’re safe. We have an obligation to ourselves.  We cannot let Muggles take control of us.”

            

“We have magic.” Armistead was beginning to raise his voice. “Why hide it among Muggles as if we are ashamed? Why not use it?”

            

“I will not have this argument.  You have no right to demand my files.”

            

“You forget that I am the Secretary of Magic.”

            

“Even the Secretary of Magic has proper avenues to follow. Bring the proper forms, and I will disclose the information.”

            

Aurelius and Armistead looked at each other and, as if for effect, disappeared with two loud cracks.

 

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JP read the story that night in the paper after hearing the basics from Professor Exeter.  By the time they heard the news, the memories had all been modified and the two men had covered their tracks and confessed to making a joke.  Everything seemed fine, and JP and her friends ate dinner without worrying about anything or feeling the need to talk politics.  

            

Myra and her friends discussed it, naturally.  “I think it seems fine now,” she said while Sadie and Jackson nodded along with her. 

            

“I don’t know,” Abby said. “If I’ve analyzed the situation correctly, I think your mom might be in trouble.”

            

“Yeah,” Wesley said, “Weren’t these her people?  What did she say about it?”

            

“I haven’t heard from her. I think she’s fine.”

            

“Yeah. It’s not like it’s her fault.  You can never predict what people are going to do.”

            

“Thanks Jackson.” She smiled at him to reinforce it, then quickly changed the subject. 

            

The staff table didn’t discuss the actual situation, but rather, Octavius Armistead’s ascent to Secretary of Magic. “No,” Constance breathed when she read it in the newspaper. 

            

“What’s the matter?” Jared asked.

            

 “My father.  He hates non-magic people. Is your mother alright?”

            

Jared didn’t actually know. “Of course. Don’t worry about it.”

            

Constance still didn’t eat dinner, but read through the article several more times. “This can’t be good. I didn’t even know he wanted to be Secretary. I’m really worried about this. I’ll feel terrible if…”

            

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

            

“Honey.” Clarence Nelson leaned across the table, placing his hand on top of hers. “We all have that relative we’re embarrassed of. We won’t hold him against you.”

            

Constance nodded and laughed weakly. “I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

 


	8. Christmas

 

Christmas vacation came without any incidents, and the students were ready for a break from studying.  The staff was equally excited to be leaving the school grounds and spending time with people their own ages. Jared and Constance stood outside the teachers’ quarters, Jared waiting for his sisters and Constance wanting to avoid going home.  Most of the rest of the staff had left at the first possible chance.  

            

Myra, JP, and Asia pulled their suitcases across the snow-covered sidewalk while Ace flew alongside them.  “Let’s go,” JP said. “I’m starving.”

            

“Alright.” Jared hugged Constance quickly, wishing her good luck for the holiday with her family. 

            

“Thank you, Jared. Merry Christmas. You too, JP. You had a great semester.”

            

“Thanks. Merry Christmas.”

            

JP and Asia ran through the snow toward the end of the school grounds. Jared and Myra each held onto one of the girls, who still didn’t have apparating licenses, and with a loud crack, arrived in the living room of their home.  JP and Asia ran off to JP’s room, making as much noise as possible since they couldn’t be given detention or manage to run into Professor Strauss, which seemed to be their specialty. 

            

“Going out?” Myra asked Jared. 

            

Jared looked at his watch.  It was the beginning of Troy’s shift. “I think so. You want to come with me?”

            

“Really?”

            

“Yeah. Put on some Muggle clothes. I’ll magic you an i.d.”

 

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The club was practically shaking as Jared and Myra walked through the door. “A drag bar?” Myra asked.

            

“Is that what this is called? I didn’t know when I came here the first time. Constance…Professor Armistead picked it.”

            

Myra headed toward the bar. “No alcohol,” Jared yelled. “You may have to apparate home alone, if you don’t mind.”

            

“No. I’ll tell mom you’re lost somewhere.”

            

“Thanks.” Jared and Myra ordered non-alcoholic drinks and sipped them while sitting at the bar. “I meant to ask,” Jared said. “What’s the matter with Abby?”

            

“What do you mean?”

            

“Is she always full of herself, or is it just in my class?”

            

“It’s all the time. She actually said ‘with my background in history, I’ll be a perfect law enforcement official,’ or something like that.  And Sadie and Beatrice think she’s in love with you.”

            

“They may be right.”

            

“She bothers me so much. They all kind of do. Maybe because it’s senior year, but I’m tired of them. I have to hear about my lack of a future from mom. I don’t need it at school too.”

            

“I know how it is. You’ll find a future. Don’t worry.”

            

“Thanks.”

            

“That’s him.” Jared pointed to the stage, where Troy was beginning his song. He always looked different on stage, but Jared easily recognized his movements, the way he held the microphone. 

            

“Good evening. I’m the Lady Angelica, and I’d like to start out with a little love song.  This one’s for the special man in my life.”

            

Jared was elated when Troy climbed offstage and fought through fans to Jared and Myra. After kissing Jared extravagantly, he said, “This is your sister?”

            

“Myra, this is Troy.”

            

The two shook hands. “Myra,” Troy said. “I love your brother, but I don’t see him nearly enough.  Do you go to this boarding school?”

            

“Yes.”

            

“Do you like it?”

            

“I love it.”

            

“Then I guess it’s alright. I should visit sometime.” Myra and Jared looked at each other. “It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t always look like this.  I can pull of prep-school. I actually went to Catholic School myself, if you can believe that.”  A fast, pounding song started. “Myra, a dance?”

            

Myra apparated home that night feeling good, and collapsed into her bed without talking to her parents, who were sitting together but not talking, in the living room.  Her mother leaned into her bedroom. “Where’s Jared?”

            

“He ran into some friends.”

 

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Jared woke before Troy the next morning and moved quietly into the front room to read through a book he had shrunk to keep in his pocket: _The Extended History of International Magical Relations._ He wanted to be able to answer every possible question from his seniors, who were becoming more demanding as they faced job interviews and the need to actually apply the information learned at Salem to the rest of their lives.  He loved the feeling of the easy Saturday morning, lying on the sofa with coffee brewing and Troy asleep in the bedroom.  He actually thought of this for his life, living here and not at Salem Academy. 

            

Troy stumbled into the living room, rubbing his eyes. “You get up so early.  And you made coffee. How sweet.”  He sat beside Jared on the couch.  “Sleep well?”

            

“Well enough.”

            

“I’m so glad you could actually stay over last night.  Usually, you have to leave right after.”

            

“Sorry. I know.”

            

“No, no.  I’m sorry. That wasn’t a guilt trip. I’m busy too, so it’s perfect for me.  I still have another year of law school, and I have the two jobs.”

            

“Thank you.”

            

“What are you reading?”

            

“It’s a history book.” Jared closed the cover and threw the book over the sofa, but not before Troy had seen one of the pages.

            

“This is going to sound crazy, but I swear the pictures in that book moved.”

            

“Really?”

            

“Yeah. That’s weird. Let me look again.”

            

“No.” It came out too forcefully. “I mean, they do move. It’s a new thing. My mom’s in government.”

            

“Really?” Troy eyed him suspiciously. “Alright.”

            

“I should go,” Jared stammered. “Speaking of my mother, I’m supposed to be home.”

 

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Thea and Clive loaded Asia’s suitcases into the trunk of the car. “Where are the girls?” Thea asked. “We need to get going. Asia’s parents want her home in an hour, and I have to drive regularly through the neighborhoods.”

            

“They’re eating breakfast. They were up practically all night.”

            

She ran up the front steps into the house, shouting, “Joan, Asia, are you ready?” then “Clive, are you coming?”

            

“Whatever you want.”

            

“Jared’s still not back?”

            

“No.”

            

“Maybe you should stay.  I don’t really want to leave the house empty or leave Myra alone.” 

            

“Sure.” Clive didn’t understand the whole situation, but he wanted his children safe as much as she did. 

            

The Department had successfully covered up the incident, and non-magic people had believed that the whole tape was a strange joke. Clive’s students had laughed about it, shocked at themselves for believing it. 

            

Thea had dealt with scorn from Armistead, but he hadn’t demanded that she shut down the program.  She assumed he was convincing the council to revoke her funding, which she had barely recovered after Edison Constantine’s death. Armistead could be after her file database, which she was keeping at home under the Fidelius charm, and she didn’t put it past him to threaten her house or her family. 

            

“Asia, JP,” she shouted again, and the two girls ran out of the house. “Get in the car. Asia’s parents would like to see her sometime during break.”

            

It only took half an hour to drive to Baltimore, and JP and Asia sprung out of the car. Frank and Leana brought Asia’s luggage inside. “Stay for a while, Thea. We’d love to talk to you.”

            

The three adults sat in the living room of Asia’s small house, and her parents again looked nervous, though they were in their own territory. “Clive couldn’t make it?”

            

Thea had the impression they liked him more than her, or they at least related better to him. “No, he’s at home.”

            

“Thank you for bringing Asia home.”

            

“It’s alright. Transportation isn’t too hard for us.”

            

“That is convenient.”

            

“You have a fireplace, right? We could hook you up to the Floo Network.”

            

“Isn’t that illegal somehow?”

            

“By our laws, it’s borderline, but not quite illegal. Lines are blurred when a magical person lives with non-magical people.”

            

“I don’t know. We’re doing alright. And with what happened before…”  The Madisons had been nervous since the revealing.  They had called the McFarland house that night, demanding to know if the men in question were wizards like Asia. 

            

“I know.”

            

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to talk to you about Asia. She keeps talking about things I don’t understand. What are Aurors? What’s Quodpot?”

            

“Quodpot is a sport. Aurors are similar to police officers.”

            

“Oh no. She has no real plans.”

            

They kept Thea there for an hour, interviewing her about every aspect of Asia’s life, until she said, “I’m very sorry, but Joan and I should be going.”

            

“Merry Christmas.  Any big holiday plans?”

            

“My uncle’s coming from England.”

 

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“Wake up everybody. It’s Christmas!” Jared and Myra sprung out of their rooms at JP’s first shout. Their father and mother dragged themselves out of their bedroom.  Clive made coffee, the only thing he could cook better than Thea, while everyone else gathered in front of the tree. 

            

“Don’t open anything yet,” Thea said, though they were all past the age when waiting to tear into their presents was unbearable. 

            

They waited until the fireplace flashed green and Filius entered with a bundle of presents. “Happy Christmas everyone!” He passed out his presents first. Myra and Jared opened their books, old British volumes. Myra’s was in ancient runes and Jared’s concerned the Goblin rebellions.  There was rumor of Goblin in Filius’ past, though Jared and his sisters had always been afraid to ask about it. JP took longer to open her present, which she knew would be a book. Uncle Filius always gave everyone books; JP assumed it was a teacher thing. When she finally tore back the yellowing paper, she saw: _Master Book of Charms._ One of the chapter titles read “Charms for Dueling.” JP smiled at Filius, then shut the book quickly. 

            

The family spent the entire day in the living room, looking through and trying out their presents. Myra read one of her many books, while JP tried new spells.  Clive screamed as JP turned his hair orange, then lengthened it. “Filius, could you set me straight please?”

            

Jared stared across the room, his new book open in his lap.  He thought about Troy, who he had seen the day before.  Troy was spending Christmas alone, but Jared couldn’t think of any way to get away and see him. He already felt like he was sneaking around, even though he was twenty four and shouldn’t have to lie every time he left the house. “Jared, are you alright?” Thea asked. 

            

“Yeah, thanks. I just need some coffee. Can I get anyone anything? Filius?”

            

“Yes, please. Thank you, Jared.”

            

“How do you want it?”

            

“The same was as you gave it to me last time.”

            

“Chocolate syrup and two shots of caramel?”

            

“Exactly.”

 


	9. Second Semester

 

 

JP and Asia told their friends all about their Christmases over breakfast, where all of the students were showing off new pieces of jewelry, since the staff had made sure to enforce the dress code.  

            

The first bell rang, sending everyone to class. JP and Asia trotted off to Defensive Magic, where JP twitched in her seat until Non-Magic Studies. “Welcome back,” Professor Armistead said. “This semester, we’ll learn about the purposes and methods of television, starting with its creation and working through the present day.  Today is a note-taking day, so let’s learn the history of television.”

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Myra stirred the potion while Professor Nelson walked around the classroom. “Remember, this memory potion is a useful one to have on hand for everyday life.”

            

Abby and Beatrice measured ingredients without talking.  Apparently, their floors had been up most of the night playing with their new Christmas games.  An Exploding Snap match had ended with two girls losing their eyebrows. “How was Christmas?” Myra asked. 

            

“Good,” Jackson said. “It was nice to have a break. But this is our last semester. Can you believe it?” 

            

“No, I can’t.”

            

“I had an interview,” Beatrice said. “With the Department of International Magical Relations.”

            

“How was it?”

            

“Good. I think I might actually get it.”

            

“Congratulations.”

            

“What are you going to do Jackson?”

            

“Be a healer, I think.”

            

“Myra?”

            

Myra pretended not to hear and flagged Professor Nelson to check their potion. “Myra, you got a perfect on your last written exam. Why is this potion yellow?” Myra blushed. She had never been good with anything hands-on. 

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Jared felt better about teaching by the end of the day.  Abby had flirted with him, but he had told her to sit back down and take notes. He spent the evening with Constance, since no one had to grade papers yet. “How was it?” he asked when they had a moment alone.

            

“Fine. They still think Non-Magic Studies means that I teach wizards and witches how to hate Muggles. I didn’t even try to correct them.  And my dad talks constantly about being the Secretary. He hasn’t actually done anything yet, but he has plans.”

            

“Like what?”

            

“Well, for one, silencing your mother.  You should tell her to be careful.”

            

“What did he say?”

            

Constance looked down and only answered in a whisper. “He thinks she’s a Muggle-lover who won’t stop until our entire world is exposed and destroyed.”

            

Jared nodded.

            

“Jared, I want you to know that I think what she’s doing is great. She’s just trying to help people. And I think that she was right to marry a non-magical man, and that you’re right for dating one.”

            

“You’ve been waiting to say that.”

            

“Yes, I have.”

            

“Thank you.”

            

Clytemnestra Strauss walked through the living room, still in dress robes from her day of classes.  With her hair piled atop her head, she looked like a statue. “Good evening,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Aurelius since dinner?”

            

“No.”

            

She sat beside them. “I need to speak with him, and he has been completely absent.”

            

“What is it?”

            

“We have to deal with curriculum again.  The Non-Magic Studies increase is up for review, and after the exposure, people are more reluctant to approve it.  Aurelius has never been quiet about his disapproval for Athena McFarland’s program, so he may want to veto her policy just because it came from her. I’m sorry, Jared.”

            

“That’s fine.”

            

“And Aurelius seems to be in a league with Octavius Armistead, who is not secretive in his distaste for Muggles…non-magic peoples. I’m sorry, Constance.”

            

“It seems you’re the only one here without a parent involved in the school’s future.”

            

Clytemnestra nodded. “This is all too involved.  There are too many personal feelings involved. No one is thinking only of the school.”

 

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“In conclusion, I ask you to remember that the Non-Magical Placement Program is a way for our people to reach out to all people of the world.  Our shared humanity obligates us to show concern for all peoples, magic and non-magic alike.  Therefore, I urge you, despite the recent troubles that we have encountered, to vote to maintain Non-Magical Placement.”

            

Octavius Armistead lead the council in a forced round of applause. “If Undersecretary McFarland would please remove herself from the chamber, we will begin the voting process.” 

            

Thea left the council to their deliberation, passing Aurelius Exeter on the way out.  He had become over-involved in the Department’s affairs, and Thea wondered who was really running the school.  She had hired Clytemnestra Strauss five years ago and was confident in her abilities, but wanted Aurelius out of her sight and in control of Salem. Aurelius smirked, and she removed herself to the hallway to pace and wait for the decision. 

 

Clive had fallen asleep by the time Thea arrived back at home. “Clive,” she whispered in the dark of their bedroom. “Clive.”

            

“What?” He stirred slightly, leaving his eyes closed. “They’re taking everything away. The council voted against me.”

            

Clive sat up. “How could they do that?”

            

“I don’t know. After the incident, they’re afraid we’ll all be in danger.”

            

“That’s terrible.”

            

“That’s not all. Armistead called of the investigation of Constantine’s death. He told the papers that Ed poisoned himself.”

            

“Did he?”

            

“I really don’t think so. This is starting to get suspicious.”

 

 


	10. Invasion

 

Clive watched TV at home, waiting for Thea to come back from the office.  For the past few days, she had been gone almost constantly and angry whenever she happened to be home.  The news stories were all the same, covering the war in infinite detail. “In other news, the strange hoax played by a police officer and suspect during a car chase has been revisited.” Clive turned up the volume. “One of the men in question, the suspect in the earlier car chase has spoken to reporters, claiming that the entire video was real and that he possesses magical powers.  Normally, such a story would not warrant national news, but have a look at this video…”

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Jared opened his textbook and instructed the sixth graders to do the same. “Let’s read a little of this together. It’s pretty confusing.” He was really thinking about the fact that it was Friday, an uneventful day in February.  As soon as school was out, he was on his way to see Troy.  “Everyone, I need you to focus please. I am aware that it is Friday, but that will not prevent me from giving detentions.”

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“Athena!” Thea allowed herself to be distracted from her work as another Department of Education official pulled her into his office. “Did you hear?”

            

“Hear what?”

            

“One of the suspects in the Nebraska case told Muggle reporters that he’s a wizard. Then he showed them a few tricks.”

            

“What? Why?”

            

“From what he said, it sounds like the Imperius Curse wore off.”

            

“He was under Imperious? From whom?”

            

“I think you could probably guess.”

            

“What do we do?”

            

“Go home, Athena. Hide.”

 

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“Gobledegook is an intensely complex language. Wizards have tried for centuries to understand the behavior and language of the Goblins.  It is important to keep in mind when conversing with Goblins that you are communicating with a different creature, who will have a very different culture than our own.” Professor Strauss instructed the class to open their books, glaring at Anne and Tom the entire time.  The couple had broken up over Christmas and had been on the verge of either a wand or fist fight ever since. 

            

JP opened her book, excited to start Goblin.  She had not liked Mermish at all. It had turned out to only be a combination of annoying shrieking sounds. Goblin, if she was correct, was a family language she might actually be able to practice. 

            

“We’re going to start with a few basic verb conjugations.”

            

Students would normally have groaned, but suppressed it since they were dealing with Professor Strauss. 

            

Halfway through one of the verbs, a woman’s scream echoed down the hall.  In a magical school, this was almost commonplace, but the whole class still turned to look at the door, which Professor Strauss swung shut with a wave of her wand. “As I was 

saying -” More screams came from the classrooms in the adjacent Spells and Charms hallway. “Probably a Charms class gone wrong,” Strauss said, but still moved toward the door and looked into the hallway. 

            

She was forced backward as the door blasted open.  A large man was pointing a wand directly at Professor Strauss’ chest. She had pulled her own, and they stood still, staring at each other. “Drop your wands,” the man ordered.

            

The students were silent, waiting to hear what Professor Strauss would say. 

            

“Who are you?”

            

“I said drop your wands. I am an Auror for the Department of Magic.” Suddenly, other Aurors were behind him. Some pointed wands at the students. Others held metal wand-like objects. JP recognized them as guns. They were Muggle police. “Drop your weapons,” one of the Muggles shouted. “Now, or we take action.”

            

Again, everyone looked at Professor Strauss. “Do it,” she whispered. “Wands on the desks.”

            

“You first, sweetheart,” the first Auror demanded, smiling at her.

            

She physically handed him her wand as the students dropped theirs, one by one, on the desks in front of them. “Accio,” an Auror said nonchalantly, and their wands disappeared in an instant.

            

Professor Strauss stood in the door frame until all of the Aurors were gone, then turned slowly to face the frightened students. JP stared at her; she had never seen Strauss look afraid of anything, but now, she seemed to have no answer for their unspoken questions.

 

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Jared had panicked and told the students to turn over their wands. Now everyone in the classroom was unarmed and he didn’t know at all what to do.  The children looked up at him, as if for guidance or reassurance, but he didn’t have anything to offer.  Instead, he said, “Stay calm, please. Stay in your seats.” He backed into the hallway, his eyes still on his classroom. His heart was racing, and he felt naked without a wand.

            

Looking around the school, Jared saw that all of the Aurors and police had left the building. Clytemnestra also leaned out of her classroom. “Jared,” she said, then they both stood in silence.  There was nothing to say or do. 

            

“Where’s Exeter?”

            

“He’s not here. He left for the Department this morning. It’s doubtful he made it back on time.”

            

Jared nodded; this meant that she was in charge. “What do we do?” he asked.

            

“I really don’t know. How did they get in here?”

            

Other teachers were coming into the hallway, all looking to Clytemnestra for guidance. “They must have taken off the unplottable charm and revealed it to Muggles. Does that mean the other charms are off? Can they tell if we’re doing magic in here?”

            

“Test a Muggle device,” a history professor suggested. 

            

“Right,” Jared said. “If they still don’t work, we at least have some protection, right?”

            

Everyone looked around as a magically magnified voice filled the school. “We have you surrounded. Do not leave the building. Do not attempt any sort of magic. Your communication lines are being monitored.  Any defiance will be punished by the Department of Magic and the United States Government.” 

            

“How long are they staying here?”

            

“What do they want us to do?”

            

“Everyone be calm,” Clytemnestra said. “Let’s do what Jared suggested and try out the Muggle device charm. “Do any of you have a Muggle artifact?”

            

“No,” Jared said. “But I know who does. Is my sister in your class?”

            

Jared stepped into Strauss’ classroom and JP was surprised to see him.  She, like all of the other students in class, was still sitting silently, waiting to be told what to do. “Joan, I need your cell phone.”

            

“What cell phone?”

            

“The one Uncle Filius gave you Muggle money to buy for your birthday.”

            

“Joan.” Professor Strauss had joined Jared. “We need it. You won’t get a detention.”

            

JP pulled out her small phone. “Turn it on,” Jared said. JP tried to start the phone, but, as usual with Muggle appliances, it didn’t work. 

            

“The charm’s still on.” Jared looked at Clytemnestra. “Maybe they can’t see if we do magic.”

            

“Maybe. We just need to see what’s going on out there. But how are we going to do that? All of our communication is down.”

            

“Do we have any TVs?”

            

“Any what?”

            

“Televisions.”

            

“Jared, we just proved that Muggle things aren’t working in here.”

            

JP raised her hand out of instinct. The adults ignored her. “They work in Muggle Studies.”

            

The teachers turned to her. “That’s true,” Strauss said. “All Muggle devices work in the Non-Magical Studies wing. Let’s move.”  She turned to her students. “Everyone, gather your things. We’re all moving to the Non-Magical wing.”  To the other staff, she said, “Move your students.”

            

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Thea hadn’t gone into the office, but waited until Clive had left for work before getting out of bed.  She heard a knock and looked out the window, not wanting to reveal herself to someone she didn’t know.  When Aurelius Exeter appeared at his side, wearing a simple non-magical suit, she opened the door slightly. “Expeliarmus,” he said softly.

            

Her wand flew out of her hand as the another man grabbed her, wrestling her hands behind her back. “Athena McFarland, you’re under arrest for conspiracy against the United States government.”

            

“What?”

            

She was pulled forcefully out of the house and pushed into the backseat of a squad car. She thought about apparating, but didn’t know where to go.  She knew they were in trouble if non-magical police were getting involved.  Instead, she said, “Aurelius? What’s going on?”

            

“We’ve been compromised. The school is fallen.  We have no choice but to cooperate. Don’t talk.”

 

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In the Non-Magical part of the school, a large crowd of students were sitting in the only lecture hall, while the entire staff was gathered at the front. JP looked around for Asia and the rest of her friends. She sat with them, even though no one had anything to say. 

            

Myra’s friends had plenty to say, but she left after a moment to sit amongst a large group of seventh grade girls.  Everyone was quiet in general, with occasional theories being shouted. 

            

“I need everyone quiet,” Professor Strauss ordered. “Constance,” she said, turning to the staff. “Can you use a television for us, please?”

            

Jared helped Constance, whose hands were shaking, to hook up one of the big screen televisions. “I don’t know if we’ll see anything worthwhile,” she said. “It may frighten the students.”

            

“I think they’re already afraid.”

            

Clytemnestra and Clarence Nelson were talking behind them. “We need wands, Clarence. Could you go to the staff quarters and get the extras?”

            

“How am I going to do that? Even if I become invisible, they’re completely surrounding us.”

            

“I don’t know, Clarence. We need to be armed right now.”

            

JP again wanted to attract the teachers’ attention. “Excuse me?”

            

“What is it, Joan?”

            

“What about the tunnels? Are the Aurors in there?”

            

“What tunnels?”

            

JP was excited to know more about something than Professor Strauss. “The ones under the school.”

            

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            

“They exist. Ask Jared.”

            

“It’s true,” Jared said. 

            

“And how would you know that?”

            

“We grew up here.  Most of the tunnels run under or through the principal’s house. We used to live there.” 

            

JP had lived in the principal’s house for most of her childhood, since her mother was principal for ten years, leaving the school the same year JP began as a student. 

            

“Tell Professor Nelson how to get to the teachers’ building.”

            

JP excitedly told him how to get back to the staff quarters, then he ran out of the room. “Be careful,” Professor Strauss called after him. “Alright, can we please start the television?”

            

Constance and Jared had found a news station, which was buzzing with what the network had labeled “Wizard Watch.” “It turns out that the tape we saw several months back was not a hoax, but rather, two men who are part of a national group who call themselves witches and wizards.  They claim to have magical powers, which are not learned, but gained by a genetic predisposition.  They have their own system of laws, their own sections of cities, and their own entertainment and communication networks, as well as four schools, where children are trained in the arts of what this group calls ‘magic.’ We’re going to turn this over to our cultural analyst, Jim Davis, who has spoken with the police on the school detail. Jim, who exactly are these people?”

            

“Thank you, Diane.  I have just spoken with the police chief in charge of the schools, all of which have been secured.  This group is an underground cult who have made extreme technological advances.  They have no actual magical abilities, but they can appear to have magical powers because of advanced devices.  Citizens are being advised that these people are a threat to our national security. They function outside of U.S. social rules, and their allegiance is to an extra-national group rather than this country.  Anyone with information on a member of this group is advised to call the number at the bottom of your screen.”

            

“Thank you. And now back to Chuck, whom we have spoken to several times today.  What steps have been taken so far to locate these people?”

            

“Diane, like Jim mentioned, all four of the group’s schools are surrounded and have been secured.  The group’s new leader, Octavius Armistead, has been cooperative with the investigation, saying that the original goal of the group was compromised under the last leader.  He and several other senior members of the wizards have decided to cooperate with the police, while dissenters are willing to fight.  Only a few moments ago, police apprehended the major threat, the so-called “most powerful wizard in America” who specializes in placing members of the group all over the country in order to influence regular citizens.”

            

The teachers looked at each other, then the students. No one spoke, until Jared said, “Who do they have?”

            

“Jared,” Clytemnestra said softly. “Your mother.” 

 


	11. Jail

 

The investigator paced the room, throwing questions at Thea. “You are Athena McFarland. You tell people you work for the government.”

            

“I do work for the government.”

            

“Doing what?”

            

“Education.”

            

“And you’re part of this group, the ‘wizards.’” Thea assumed the leak had escalated into a full exposure on the national news, but she couldn’t get any more information out of Aurelius, who had disappeared.  She didn’t even trust him if he were around.  There was no way he had been forced to take part in her apprehension, and he wasn’t very supportive of non-magic people, so she didn’t see why he was cooperating with them.  He should have been at the school, especially if it was in danger.       

            

“Who are these people? What do you do?” He was shouting, but she didn’t know what to say.  How much had already been released? Who else was being held in custody? What was going on at the school?

            

“You are not the leader of this group?”

            

“No.”

            

“But they call you the most powerful wizard in America. What does that mean?” 

            

“Who told you that?”

            

Thea tried to remember anything about the non-magical legal system.  All she could remember was a comment from television she had seen years ago when she and Clive were dating. “Don’t I get a phone call?”

            

“No.”

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Myra took a minute to leave the seventh graders and pull JP off her feet.  The two of them approached the staff to talk to Jared. “They have her,” he said quietly. 

            

“What do we do?”

            

“We can’t do anything.”

            

“We have to,” JP insisted.

            

“Call dad,” Jared ordered. “Tell him not to go home.”

            

JP tried for a few minutes, leaving several messages. “He’s not picking up. He must be in class.”  She looked between her siblings. “Seriously, we have to do something. I can’t sit here all day.”

            

“Joan, how are we going to get out? Then when we do, where are we going to go? You have no wands, so we can’t break her out of jail. We don’t even know which jail she’s in. We don’t know why they have her. And we don’t know anyone who could help. I think all of the major wizards are in jail or being watched.”

            

“Uncle Filius,” JP said.

            

“What about Uncle Filius?”

            

Myra spoke up. “Uncle Filius would know. He knows everything about Mom, even the stuff she doesn’t tell us.”

            

“And Uncle Filius is in England.” JP was becoming excited, ready to go. “He’ll at least have wands.”

            

“How would we get out of here, then?”

            

“The tunnels.”

            

Professor Strauss interrupted their circle. “No. Don’t risk exposing the tunnel system. It worked for Clarence, so I want to have it on hand. I have a way to get you out of the building. Jared, you have a wand?”

            

Strauss set about making the students gather their things and line up, while Jared dialed JP’s phone. “Troy, it’s Jared. I need your help.”

 

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Aurelius came into the interrogation room, sitting down next to Thea and leaning in close to her. “How’s it going? What did you tell them?”

            

She had been in the same room for hours, forced into jailhouse orange clothes with her hands cuffed behind her back.  Clive hadn’t answered his phone, and the police had not allowed her any more calls. “I haven’t said very much. What are you doing here?”  

            

“I’m a liaison for the investigation.”

            

“You’re cooperating with them? Why?”

            

“We have no other choice, Athena. Octavius thought it was the best solution.”

            

“Why is he involved?”

            

“Our cover was already compromised.” Aurelius glanced around the room before turning back to her. “Athena, we need to pretend to cooperate with these people.  Once they know who we are and what we can do, we can take a position of power.”

            

She stared at him for a moment. “You’re setting them up? You turned me in. I’m the one who tried to help the non-magic people, so I look bad from both angles. You and Octavius are planning on taking over, and the wizarding world will be exactly as you two like it.”

            

“Athena, you’re making this too complicated. Nothing will happen to you if you agree to help us.  I hate to admit it, but we could use your skill.”

            

“Don’t insult me. What about the school? Why did you betray them?”

            

“They won’t be hurt. We’ll have them back in no time.” 

            

“I can’t believe this. You betrayed them. You betrayed all of us. Secrecy was all we needed. We don’t need to take over the country.”  The two wizards sat at the interrogation table for a while, not speaking to each other. “Leave, Aurelius,” Thea said. “I don’t need you.” She thought of all of the history between them, wondering whether Aurelius’ personal grudges against her had returned.  Their years at Salem together didn’t seem to mean anything.

            

“Good luck, Athena. They’ll be transferring you soon.”

 

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Clytemnestra Strauss walked out of the building with several members of the staff, while Jared, Myra, and JP stood beside her under a disillusionment charm.  Constance was on her other side to act as Muggle translator.

            

“Are you sure it’s fine if we leave?” Jared whispered.

            

 “You do what you have to do,” Clytemnestra said. “Aurors! I have a request.”

            

“What is it sweetheart?” It was the original Auror from her classroom, who was now leaning against a police car with several Muggle officers. 

            

“We would like to move our students.”

            

“Why?”

            

“So they can eat and sleep,” she said sardonically. 

            

“If you’re going to be smart with me, you get nothing.”

            

Clytemnestra was seething. “How long are you planning on being here? You can just as easily surround us from the dormitories.”

            

Constance interrupted her tirade. “Please, officer. These are children. We would like them to be more comfortable.  You may guard us, but we would like to move.”

            

The Auror nodded. “Gentlemen, draw your weapons.” He was clearly enjoying himself. Clytemnestra waved the students forward, bringing up the rear with the chief Auror, who walked uncomfortably close to her.  The guards left Jared, Myra, and JP under the spell, which was beginning to wear off. “Run,” Jared whispered, and the three ran toward the end of the school grounds.  

            

They were completely visible by the time they reached the edge of campus.  “Come on,” Jared shouted, tearing through a street of magical Salem. 

            

“Where are we going?” Myra could barely keep up with the other two.

            

“Accio! We can’t apparate to England.”

            

They reached the bar and swung inside, hoping the whole area hadn’t already been taken over. The wizards were acting normally, probably not realizing the takeover. “Can I help you?” the barman asked.

            

“Floo.” 

            

“The fireplace. Everything alright?”

            

“They have the school,” Jared said. “Muggles and Aurors. We’re completely compromised. Get away from here and all magical places.” As he said it, the door was kicked open, and several Aurors and police came inside.

            

“Go,” the barman ordered the McFarlands, drawing his wand to fight the Aurors. 

            

“Where is Filius’ school?” Jared asked, taking a fistful of Floo Powder and throwing it on the fire. 

            

“Hogsmead, Scotland,” JP shouted.

 

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“And what does this tell us about the U.S.’s relationship with England?” Clive asked his class.  Students weren’t paying attention; they would rather talk about the wizarding scandal, and they all seemed to know more about it than anyone in the wizarding world.  At a knock on the door, Clive stepped into the hallway to see a young man looking him over nervously. 

            

“Dr. McFarland? My name’s Troy Henry. I’m a friend of Jared’s. I also go to school here.”

            

“How do you know Jared?” Clive had learned to be suspicious with anything that concerned wizards.

            

“Well…we’re…we’re dating.”

            

“What?” After Clive thought about it, it did make sense. Jared had been secretive about his personal life all year.  Clive surveyed the boy, but didn’t have time to think about his involvement with Jared. 

            

“Yes. I know he works for the magic school. He just called me.”

            

“What’s going on?”

            

“They arrested your wife, and they’ve surrounded the school. Jared asked me to tell you not to go home. And that he and his sisters had to go to England.”

            

“Why?”

            

“To ask their uncle for help.”

            

Clive pulled him around a corner. “How do you know all this?”

            

“Jared told me.”

            

“And you believed him? He told you he works for a magical school and his magical mother is in prison and you have to tell his father to be careful, and you believed him?”

            

“All of that is on the news. And once I saw one of Jared’s books, and the pictures moved.”

            

“Okay.” Clive breathed deeply. Thea was in jail, and probably had no idea what to do. “What should I do?” He didn’t even know this kid, but was asking his advice. 

            

“Get out of here.”

            

Clive leaned back into his classroom. “Class dismissed.”  He turned back to the boy. “What’s your name again?”

            

“Troy.”

            

“Well, Troy. Thank you for your help.”  He walked quickly down the hall. It was a moment before he realized that Troy was following him. 

            

“You shouldn’t take your car. Jared said that. Come with me.”

            

“I can’t just hide. I need to get Thea out of jail. I should get her a lawyer.” He tried to think of someone to call and how to find out what exactly the charges were. He didn’t hear Troy talking for a while. “What did you say?”

            

“I said I work for a law office. And one of the lawyers there – his books move too.”

 

 


	12. Hogwarts

            

Jared, Myra, and JP stepped out of the fireplace, letting go of each other.  They looked around the small pub. “Where are we?” JP asked. 

            

Most of the people in the pub were looking at them. The owner glanced up from behind the bar. “You’re in Hogsmead, of course.”

            

Jared sighed loudly. “Thank God.”

            

“You need anything, dears? A Butterbeer, perhaps.”

            

“No, thank you. We need to get to the school.”

            

“To Hogwarts?”

            

“Yes,” JP said, since she was the one who knew the most about the school. “Our uncle works there.”

            

“It’s just up the road. If you’d like, I’ll let the headmistress know you’re coming.”

            

“Yes, thank you,” Jared called as they ran out the door. 

            

It took a few minutes to reach Hogwarts, and everyone gasped as the castle came into view. “Wow,” JP said. “I’m transferring.  Why doesn’t our school look like this?” It was rather impressive, a tall, towering castle as opposed to Salem’s four brick buildings.  Myra and Jared ignored her, quickening their strides as they approached the stone stairs in front of the building.

            

The front door swung open as they reached the top of the stairs. “Good evening.”  They looked up to see an older witch staring at them, unamused by their intrusion. “Madam Rosmerta informed me you were on your way. Who exactly are you?”

            

JP gulped. With her green robes and hair in a bun, the headmistress looked like an older version of Professor Strauss. 

            

“We’re looking for Filius Flitwick,” Jared answered for the group. 

            

“Why?”

            

“He’s our uncle. I mean, he’s actually our mother’s uncle. He’s family, and we need his help. Our mother’s in jail and our school’s been taken over. You’ve probably heard-”

            

The witch raised a hand to cut him off. “You’re Athena Gault’s children?”

            

“Athena McFarland, yes.”

            

“I am Minerva McGonagall. Do come in.”

            

They looked at each other and followed her into the castle, JP looking around excitedly. 

 

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“Ms. McFarland, your attorney.” Thea looked up as a young man came into her interrogation room. She had still not been moved and was starting to panic.  Aurelius kept coming in to see if he could encourage her to join him in the eventual fight for magic power.  She had heard no news about the fate of the schools or of magic people in general. 

            

Her lawyer sat down and placed a briefcase of the desk. “Professor McFarland, I’m James Holt.” He waited until the officer had left the room before continuing. “Your husband called me. He’s in the hallway. Troy is with him.”

            

Thea sighed with relief to know where Clive was. “Is he alright?...Who’s Troy?” She hoped he wasn’t an Auror. 

            

“My intern, Troy Henry. I thought you knew him. Apparently, he’s involved with your son?”

            

Thea stared at him for a minute. “My son?”

            

“Jared, if I’m correct. You didn’t know? I’m very sorry.”

            

“Mr. Holt, I have bigger problems right now than who my son sleeps with.”

            

“Very well. You are being charged with conspiracy against the United States government. Clearly an unfair charge. They are trying to make an example of you, since you are obviously a controversial figure right now.  Someone turned you in to save himself, though I’m not quite sure who. Why is Octavius Armistead cooperating with the Muggles when he has always expressed nothing but wizarding, even pure-blood pride?”

            

“Wait.” Thea looked him over for a minute. “They’re using all those terms on the news?”

            

“No.” He leaned closer. “I’m one of you.” He pushed back his suit coat to show his wand tucked into his belt. “I’m posing as a lawyer. I’m in your program. You placed me.”

            

“I’m sorry. I didn’t remember.”          

            

“That’s fine. I didn’t attend Salem. I went to Northridge, out in Oregon. Please explain anything you know. What’s actually going on? Is your program really at fault for all of this?”

            

“Maybe partly, but I don’t think so.  It did give them a perfect opportunity.  Octavius Armistead wants to expose us. He’s only pretending to cooperate with the non-magic authorities, then when we have the world’s attention, he can take over. That’s what I’ve gathered in any case. And Aurelius Exeter is with him.”

            

“The principal of Salem?”

            

“Yes.”

            

“Why?”

            

“The combination of wizard pride and personal hatred, I think.”

            

“He hates you?”

            

“I believe so.”

            

“Why?”

            

“A variety of reasons. We go back thirty years.”

            

“Alright.” The lawyer breathed deeply. “Did they read you the charges and your rights when they arrested you?”

            

“What?”

            

“You know, ‘You have a right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you?’ Does that sound familiar?”

            

“No.”

            

“That’s a direct violation. They seem to be making no effort to make this a fair trial. Are they going to book you?”

            

“They mentioned a transfer.”

            

“Oh God. They could be sending you anywhere. I hate to say this, but you need to escape.”

            

“Escape?”

            

Holt looked around, then motioned for her to speak quietly. “Yes. They’ll make an example of you, especially if everything you said about Armistead is true; I don’t doubt that it is. I’ve been suspicious of him since Edison Constantine’s murder. It all fits together.  You need to get out of here and hide. I know it’s illegal, but if you’re as powerful as I hear you are, we’ll need you if it comes down to a fight.  I want you to take my wand, and as soon as I’m out of here, apparate.”

            

“Keep your wand. I can get another.”

            

“No you can’t. They have the wandmakers. I have another at home.”

            

“I can apparate without a wand.”

            

“Then what will you do? Take it.” He waved it to unfasten her handcuffs, then slid it to her under the table. “I’m going to walk out the door and tell your husband to get into the car in the front of the building. Wait two minutes, apparate, become invisible, and run.”

            

She simply nodded, having really nothing to say. “Thank you, Mr. Holt.” 

            

He stood to leave. 

            

“Wait, I just have to ask you. Do you like the program?”

            

“Yes, I do. I love my life.”

            

“Do you find that you’re helping?”

            

“I suppose I am, yes. I don’t do much magic, but I’ve learned a lot working without magic. It’s very rewarding. Remember, wait two minutes.” He disappeared through the door. 

            

Thea watched the clock for two minutes exactly, then gripped Holt’s wand, and with a loud crack, disappeared.

 

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Professor McGonagall had led them to her office and offered them dinner, which JP had accepted without thought.  Then she had sent a young professor to find Filius and bring her a newspaper called _The Evening Prophet_ as soon as it arrived. “Tell me what happened at the school,” she ordered, directing her questions at Jared.

            

“We were taken over by Aurors and Muggle…non-magic police.”

            

“We have already heard this. Why did they wish to take over a school?”

            

“I don’t know.  We think it involves our mother, and the Non-Magic Placement.  Two wizards exposed themselves.”

            

The professor came back, carrying a newspaper. “Professor Flitwick is on his way.”

            

“Thank you, Longbottom.”

            

He nodded and removed himself while McGonagall spread the paper on the desk in front of her.  She read for a few moments. “Your mother has just escaped.”

            

“Escaped?”

            

“Apparently.  All of the American schools are still surrounded, and the Aurors plan on staying there overnight. What good could that do?” No one answered her inserted commentary, but let her continue. “Octavius Armistead is cooperating with the investigation, as is Aurelius Exeter. Merlin,” she muttered. “They have a plan. Independently, those men are dangerous.  If they’re plotting anything, it cannot be good.”

            

“What are they plotting?”

            

“I don’t know. What would they gain from compromising our entire world to the Muggles?”

            

Filius entered as she asked the question.  He was dressed in official-looking robes, and looked generally confused to see Jared, Myra, and JP, but sat down next to them anyway. “Power,” he said simply. “They can gain power.  Once the Muggles put their trust in these men as good wizards who will protect them from the evil wizards, they are in the perfect place to make a stand.  Revenge may also be a factor.”

            

“Revenge for what?” Myra asked. 

            

“You three come with me.  Minerva, I think we should contact the ministry.”

            

“I have done so already today, Filius. Kingsley has spoken with the Prime Minister, who has agreed to deny that such a group exists in the United Kingdom.  He will restrict it to an American problem.”

            

“Very good.” Filius stood and motioned for them to follow.  He looked much more serious than usual as he led them through the castle, up several flights of moving stairs, leading them to the seventh floor. JP could hardly contain herself, but made herself remember that they had a mission. As Filius opened the door to his private quarters, a small set of rooms furnished for a small man, he said, “Armistead is after the power he believes he deserves as one of the last pure bloods in America, but he couldn’t have persuaded Exeter to join him without the possibility of revenge.”

            

“Against who?” Myra asked again.

            

“Athena.”

 

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Clive climbed into the passenger side of the car he had been riding in for several hours.  Troy started the engine, looking nervous. “How will I know?” he asked quietly, as if magic would allow everyone to hear his every word. 

            

“You’ll know.” Clive was impressed with the man’s ability to be part of this, even though he knew nothing about magic other than what he had learned on the news in the past few days, almost all of which was inaccurate.

            

A loud crack sounded on the jailhouse stairs, then a thud came inside the car. “Drive,” Thea’s voice shouted. Troy pulled slowly away from the curb. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. They don’t know I’m gone yet.”

            

They drove slowly through Boston, winding along back roads. Clive turned around to see if they were being followed, but no suspicious cars were anywhere around.  The streets were very empty; people were probably afraid to be outside. “I’m driving to my place,” Troy said. “No one even knows who I am.”

            

Thea pulled the disillusionment charm off herself and leaned between the seats. “I’m Athena McFarland,” she said. 

            

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Troy Henry.”

            

“Troy’s dating Jared,” Clive offered to save the kid the embarrassment. 

            

“My lawyer told me. How did you know James Holt was magic? I didn’t even know.”

            

“His books,” Troy offered as explanation.

            

“Are the kids okay?” she asked Clive. “Has anyone said anything about the school? I think non-magic people know more than we do at this point.”

            

“They’re in England.”

            

“Why are the kids in England? How would they even get there?”

            

“I don’t know how they got there, but Jared said they were looking for Filius.”

            

“Oh, God.” 

            

Troy pulled into a parking space outside his apartment. “Can you be invisible again?” he asked. “I have clothes you can wear inside, but you still have the orange jumpsuit on.  That would look suspicious.”

            

Thea waved the wand over herself.  She didn’t like it as well as her own, but she blended in with the seat of the car. “Okay, let’s see what they’re saying on the news.”

 


	13. Explanation

 

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” Filius asked as he made them all take seats in his chambers. “Aurelius and Athena have quite the history.”

            

“He was the head teacher while she was principal,” Myra said weakly, though she knew it wasn’t what Filius was looking for. 

            

“Do you think I’m really your uncle?”

            

“Of course you aren’t. You’re our mother’s uncle.”

            

Filius looked at them all with surprise. “Did she tell you that?” He paced about the small room, picking up books off the small tables and bookshelf. “Look through these.”

            

One of the volumes was old and dusty.  When Myra, sitting in the middle, opened it, they saw that it was actually a scrapbook of sorts, holding stories from newspapers in the 1940s.  “Filius Flitwick defeats Igor Karkaroff for the Dueling Championship,” “Flitwick International Champion Again,” “Flitwick Undefeated for Entire Dueling Season,” and some silly human-interest stories: “Small Wizard, Big Power,” “Diminutive Filius Flitwick Reaches Children for Dueling.”

            

“You dueled?” JP asked excitedly, though she didn’t know what this display had to do with anything. 

            

“Yes, I dueled for years, until I became a professor and training became less pragmatic.  I forgot about dueling for almost a decade until I read this.” He handed them a second volume, this one beginning with a story from an American paper.  “Surprise Upset: 13-year-old Athena Gault Defeats 17-year-old Favorite for Junior U.S. Dueling Championship.” 

            

JP gasped and turned the page.  All of the articles concerned their mother, more than thirty years ago. “When I heard of her,” Filius continued, “I brought her over here every summer for the rest of her education and trained her. By the time she was seventeen and qualified for the adult international competition, she was undefeatable.”

            

“Former Champion Flitwick Speaks Out on New Trainee,” the headlines read. “Junior Champion to Compete Internationally,” “Filius Flitwick’s Second to Duel for Herself.”

            

“She dueled?” JP practically shrieked. 

            

“And she won.  Four years in a row, she was the undisputed champion.  Every year, she went against Aurelius Exeter for the U.S. championship, and every year she defeated him easily.  Eventually, being ten years older than Athena, he grew tired of it, and found a coach of his own – my former rival, Igor Karkaroff. Karkaroff was a dark wizard, involved in the first war against Voldemort. When Exeter came to the championship, he knew more dark magic than any wizard in the country, and he was determined to win. What he didn’t realize is that dark magic does not automatically lead to success. He was defeated again, and others became suspicious of him when Karkaroff was arrested after the war.  It seems he has never forgiven her for the defeat, or indeed, for being named principal of Salem over him when he had more experience.”

            

“17 Year Old Athena Gault Defeats Previous Champion Aurelius Exeter,” “Gault World Champion Again,” “Undefeated International Dueler Speaks on Coach Filius Flitwick,” and finally, “Champion Dueler Gault Retires, age 22, to Teach Charms.”

            

“So you’re telling me that this is based on a thirty year old grudge?” Jared asked, watching Filius’ expression, which had grown distant and nostalgic. 

            

“Jared, you’d be surprised at how much of magic is based on thirty year old grudges.”

            

JP was practically jumping out of her chair to ask Filius her question. “Uncle Filius, why won’t she let me duel?”

            

“Well that, Joan, is another story entirely.”

 

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Thea and Clive sat on Troy’s worn-down sofa, drinking tea out of chipped mugs and eating sandwiches on stale bread. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Troy had said over and over. 

            

Thea had changed into some of Troy’s women’s clothing, and she felt strange in tight jeans and a sweater, though she had often dressed as a non-magic person in the past.  They had watched TV for the past hour, and Thea was starting to slip into a half-asleep apathy.  The reality of the day’s events was beginning to hit her. She felt responsible for everything; maybe if she had just told Armistead where the placed wizards were, he would have recalled them without exposing everyone.  The possibility didn’t actually seem likely, but she couldn’t help but wonder.  She also worried that a fight was quickly becoming necessary.  Taking back the school was the right thing to do, but she had not dueled for years, and had never fought in a real battle. 

            

Troy was in the kitchen, calling Jared’s phone over and over. “It won’t work if he’s in a magic place,” Clive called as an explanation. He gave up and called Holt, Wheeler, Wyatt, and Brown several times, but no one was at the office to tell him whether James Holt was safe.  “Troy, sit by us,” Clive said. “I feel like I don’t even know you.”

            

Troy sat on the arm of the sofa, looking over Jared’s parents, one of whom was in his drag clothes. “There’s not much to say, but I might as well be honest. I’m a law student and a drag queen.”

            

“How long have you been with Jared?”

            

“Since September.”

            

“I’m sorry we haven’t met. You must think we’re terrible people.”

            

Troy shook his head. “No, Jared hasn’t met my parents either. And he probably won’t.”

            

Clive and Thea fell silent, turning back to “Wizard Watch.”

            

“Professor McFarland, may I ask you a question?”

            

“You don’t have to call me that,” Thea said. “I think we’re past that stage already.”

            

“They said you were the most powerful wizard in America.  How do they know that? Is there a rank?”

            

“Not really. I was a dueling champion in my early twenties.  I think it’s just a label men like Aurelius Exeter have put on me to make me more dangerous on the news.”

            

“And this man is your nemesis?” Troy said with a laugh.

            

“That’s one way to put it.  We were dueling rivals, and I usually defeated him. Actually, I always defeated him.”

            

“And he’s mad at you for that?”

            

“Among other things.”

            

“Well, if you’re more powerful, can’t you fight him?”

            

“That was thirty years ago. And I’ve never actually fought in a war.”

            

“There haven’t been any.”

            

“Not that you’ve seen.” Thea stared off, across the room, her guilt returning with the possibility of another war.  “There have been two wizard wars in my lifetime.  The first happened while I was in England.” She knew she didn’t have to tell the story, but saying it out loud felt necessary. “There was a wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort, and he was undoubtedly the darkest, most evil man of our age.  Everyone had to take sides, and Filius was a major part of the war. I knew I should fight; I had been spending every summer in England and was the most skilled dueler in the world.  But Filius gave me a choice and I opted to leave.  He paid one of their spies to smuggle me out of the country.  After that, I gave up dueling.  What good is being able to fight if you won’t?”

            

Troy nodded slowly, and Clive even looked surprised. “Thea, that was a long time ago,” he said. “This is a totally new situation. No black magic, no Dark Lords…”

            

“Not yet.  Aurelius Exeter was trained by a dark wizard, and they _are_ on a quest for power.”

            

The discussion was interrupted by the appearance of Octavius Armistead on the TV screen. “Secretary Armistead, thank you for joining us,” the anchor said. “You are the leader of the wizards, and you have something to say to the nation.”

            

“Yes, thank you.” He was dressed in non-magical clothing, a gesture he would normally have found far beneath him. “I am the leader of an organization who call themselves the ‘Witches and Wizards.’ I mean to tell you that we, as a formal, recognized organization, mean no harm to any citizens of this country.  This is a noble group, a secret society of members who are devoted to upright living and scientific and technological discovery.  Historically, we have made no claims to fairytale magic; we have used the term ‘wizard’ to denote progress beyond normal human ability, much the same way that Benjamin Franklin may be considered a wizard.  The threat lies in people who have taken our doctrines and perverted them, turning our noble work into a religious and cultish farce, parading about claiming magical powers, and hiding members of our society in communities all across the country. 

            

“I am here tonight to make an appeal to the American people.  Please do not fear the officials who are inspecting the country for hidden members of our society.  Aid them in any way possible.  Watch for those who attempt to fight or to run. Turn them in. Help us to save our organization and the livelihood of this country. Thank you.”

            

“Thank you, Mr. Secretary.  On that note, the Threat Level in this country has been raised to Orange while several members of this society are at large.  The most wanted of these criminals is Athena McFarland, who escaped from custody earlier today.  McFarland is considered armed and highly dangerous. Also missing is her husband, Dr. Clive McFarland, who is not part of the Wizards, but whose whereabouts are unknown.  Any information on either of these suspects…”

            

Thea and Clive looked at each other. “You sure you still want to be part of this?” Clive asked Troy.

            

“I’m sure.  This isn’t fair. They don’t understand you. It’s a witch hunt.”

            

“Literally.”

            

“What do we do?” Troy asked, looking between them. 

            

“I don’ t know,” Thea said. “We have no support. All of the Aurors have turned against us. The professors may be armed, but they’re outnumbered and surrounded.  Magical people are in custody or in hiding, or they side with Armistead. Non-magic parents and relatives are probably terrified. We can’t appeal to the public. We’re freaks at best.”

            

“That may actually be helpful.”

            

“How so?”

            

“You’re not the only freaks in this country.”

 

 


	14. Preparations

 

Jared, Myra, and JP didn’t sleep much that night, suffering from a combination of worry and the time change. Filius had conjured three cots for them and insisted that they try to sleep. He had formulated a plan for the following day.  When he woke them in the morning, they had only achieved several hours of sleep.  Breakfast had been delivered and was waiting for them on the table, as were a pile of robes. “You shouldn’t wear your Salem uniforms,” he told the girls. “Here are some Hogwarts robes.” To Jared, he handed a set of teacher’s robes, then he instructed all of them to change. “We’re going to London,” he announced.  No one asked questions, since they had come to him for help. 

            

In the front entrance, Filius spoke quickly to Professor McGonagall, who whispered, “I’ve spoken with the ministry. They will be expecting you this afternoon.”

            

“Thank you, Minerva.”

            

“Thank you, Professor,” Jared said. McGonagall nodded in response. As they descended the stone steps, he asked Filius, “Why are we going to London?”

            

“We need to see the wandmaker.”

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After a long walk down Diagon Alley, Filius led them into Ollivander’s wand shop. “Hello,” he called into the dusty store. 

            

A young man with thick glasses approached them, eying Jared, Myra, and JP suspiciously.  When he saw Filius, his expression changed. “Professor Flitwick!” he exclaimed. “How may I help you? I hope your wand is still working for you. Seven inches, willow, if I remember correctly.”

            

“You do, thank you. And my wand is working beautifully.  I need wands for my nieces, and I would like to purchase several hundred stock wands.”

            

“Several hundred? Why? Do you know what that costs?”

            

“You have heard the stories, I’m sure, of the situation in the United States. We must rearm as many witches and wizards as possible. And about the cost, I am willing to cover most of it, but I was also hoping for a good deal.” Filius smiled at the wandmaker, who laughed nervously. 

            

“I think we can arrange that. You can find some wands while I fit your nieces for their wands. Come with me, ladies.”

            

Jared and Filius located as many inexpensive and spare wands as they could, while JP and Myra followed Mr. Ollivander to the back of the shop. “Which is your wand arm?” he asked JP.

            

“My left.”

            

“What is your best subject?”

            

“Charms, I guess. And Muggle Studies.”

            

“Charms. I see. I took you for a dueler.  Do you compete?”

            

“No.”

            

“I think you just remind me of someone, but I may have the wand for you.” Ollivander sorted through several dusty boxes, finally locating one and handing JP the wand. He was correct that it would be the right wand; it started sending out golden sparks immediately. “Just as I suspected. Willow, unicorn hair, specially crafted handle. Perfect for charms and dueling. The same as your uncle, and as his finest student.”

            

JP strutted around the store, waving her wand, then joined Filius and Jared at pulling wand boxes off the shelves, while Mr. Ollivander turned to Myra. “Wand hand?”

            

“Right.”

            

“What are you good at?”

            

“I don’t know. I like Runes.”

            

“Runes?” Mr. Ollivander considered for a moment, before beginning to hand Myra wands.  He held out model after model “dragon, unicorn, willow, yew, ash…” None of them responded. “What did you have before?”

            

“Cedar.”

            

“That’s not as common in the UK.”

            

Myra looked down. This same thing had happened when she had bought her first wand, and the one she chose had barely reacted.  “Think about something you’re passionate about. Try casting a few spells if that works.”

            

Myra started to become embarrassed. “It’s alright,” Ollivander said, sensing her discomfort. “Try to focus.”

            

Thinking of anything specific became difficult. Myra thought of her family, her first ever real adventure in England, and her school. Eventually, a wand sparked. “There you go,” Ollivander said, apparently relieved.  It would be embarrassing for him if he couldn’t find a wand for every witch and wizard. “Professor Flitwick,” he called. “Have you found all of the wands you require?”

            

“Yes, thank you. Would you mind providing us with two bags? My niece and nephew need to bring them home.”

            

As they left Ollivander’s, Filius stopped Myra and Jared and handed each a bag of wands. “I need one of you to find your parents and one of you to return to the school. Bring wands to each place, and wait for my signal. I fear this may not end without a fight. You may decide who travels where.”

            

Jared and Myra looked at each other as each took a worn brown bag from Filius. For the first time the entire trip, Myra felt sure about something. “I’ll go to Salem,” she said definitely. Jared looked at her for a moment, but didn’t argue the point. Instead, he simply nodded, and the group walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron and the fireplaces out of Diagon Alley. 

            

Jared stepped out of the magical alley on the other side of the Leaky Cauldron to use JP’s cell phone.  His father answered on the first ring. “Dad, are you alright? Where are you?”

            

“We’re in Cambridge still. We’re about to leave for Troy’s nightclub.”

            

“Is Troy with you?”

            

“Yes. He’s been very helpful, actually.”

            

“I’ll meet you at the club, Dad.”

            

Filius and JP were comparing wands when he got back inside, and Myra was looking nervous. Jared handed JP her phone, and Filius insisted that they eat lunch before Flooing back to the U.S. “Be prepared to become invisible, to fight, anything. Apparate immediately if possible. Just be careful.”

            

“Are you sure you don’t want Joan to come with one of us?” Jared asked.

            

“Yes, I’d rather she came with me.”

            

“Where are you going?”

            

“To the Ministry of Magic. We’re seeking help in case of a battle.”

            

Jared and Myra nodded. They didn’t have much to say as they finished eating and prepared to leave. “Thank you, Filius,” Myra whispered as her uncle hugged her and wished her good luck. “Be brave, Myra,” he said. “I know you have the passion you need.”

            

JP was practically jumping up and down as Filius handed her the pot of Floo Powder. She was ready for the continuation of her big England adventure, and wasn’t jealous at all of her siblings who were returning to the U.S. amid Aurors and mounting political tension. “Ministry of Magic,” she shouted, and she and Filius were gone in a flash of green. 

            

“Good luck, Myra,” Jared called, one fireplace next to her. “Take care of the school for me.”

            

Myra couldn’t reply, but shouted, “Salem, Massachusetts,” at the same time Jared said, “Cambridge, Massachusetts.” 

 


	15. Gathering the Armies

 

Thea and Clive paced the office while the four lawyers looked at each other.  Two of them, Wheeler and Brown, still looked shocked at James Holt’s revelation.  It turned out that Wyatt was actually Holt’s wife, who was non-magical, but who of course had known about his secret.  After a light show from Holt’s and Thea’s wands, they were convinced, but astounded.  “What do we do?” Brown asked simply. 

            

Troy spoke up first. “I think we need to paint them as a persecuted minority.  Technically, they aren’t breaking any laws. We need to get people on their side.”

            

“I hate to sound mercenary,” Wyatt said. “But I don’t see how this will end without a fight.”

            

“That’s true,” Thea said. “But we don’t have an army.”

            

“What about all of the other witches and wizards? Together, you should be more powerful than anyone without magic.”

            

“Not all of the wizards are on the same side.  There’s too much internal argument about the role of magic in the rest of the world.”

            

“What do you think that role should be?”

            

“I think we should use it to help people.”

            

“But hide it?”

            

“Yes.” Thea began to realize the near-impossibility of her wish. 

            

“I think the religious idea works,” Brown added, still looking incredulous. “If we can get rid of these yahoos who are influencing the public, we can get some legislation passed to protect you.”

            

“So who do we need to call? We can’t face this alone,” Holt said. 

            

For the next few minutes, all four of the lawyers and Troy were on the phone.  It wasn’t a challenge to convince some of the minority rights groups of the witch hunt over people who were different.  They were more than willing to stage a march or protest, but were unsure when anyone mentioned actual fighting. 

            

Clive and Thea were silent for a while. “I should call parents,” Clive said. 

            

“Who? They’re probably all regretting sending their children to Salem. Who would stand for us? We haven’t told them enough about the school. They won’t trust us.”

            

Clive ignored her and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Frank, hi, it’s Clive McFarland.  Yeah, I saw that on the news, too. Listen, I need your help.”

            

They were in the office for hours, speaking with everyone they could reach on the weekend. “Salem Academy, Salem Massachusetts,” the lawyers said over and over. “Children are being held captive because their parents are part of a separatist organization.  They do have some special talents and advanced technology. No connection to terrorism. Check the government files yourself.  No crimes have been committed.”

            

By the end of the day, they were exhausted. “Get a serious phone tree together,” James Holt said as they left, “Everyone will be at Salem when you need. There’s strength in numbers, even if people don’t have magic.”

            

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Myra exited the fireplace at the Accio! Bar, expecting a crowd of Aurors.  Her wand was clutched tightly in her hand, and she prepared to apparate. However, the bar was empty, though she could see rigid shadows walking the street outside.  She didn’t know what was happening at the school, and there was no way to find out officially.  Assuming that the professors had kept the students locked in the adjoining dormitories, Myra apparated to the edge of campus, performed a quick and rather ineffective disillusionment charm, and dove into the first tunnel entrance she could locate. 

            

She didn’t know the system as well as JP and hoped that no authorities had found it first.  Walking as slowly and quietly as possible, it took Myra almost fifteen minutes to reach the dormitory. She pushed open a trap door, hoisted her cargo of wands through on top of her head, and pulled herself through the floor into the main lobby. 

            

She was greeted by a chorus of gasps and screams. Most of the students and faculty were in the lobby, sitting silently or talking among small groups. Everyone seemed to have brought in games to distract themselves, but no one was overly committed to the competition.  Instead, they all mechanically laid down their Exploding Snap cards or threw their Gobstones without really thinking.  Everyone was in Muggle clothing. It looked normal enough on the students, most of whom wore jeans on the weekends, but the teachers looked completely foreign.  

            

Professor Armistead helped pull Myra to her feet. “Are you alright?”

            

“Yes.” All of the students were looking at her. Sadie and Jackson waved awkwardly, small smiles on their faces. Abby glared, then forced a smile. “Where’s JP?” Asia shouted from across the room. 

            

“She’s okay,” Myra shouted back.

            

Myra didn’t have a chance to decide what to do first. Professor Strauss, who seemed like a different person in a Muggle suit, pulled her into a small adjoining room. Professors Armistead and Nelson followed. “Where are they?” Strauss demanded. Myra noticed that she looked exhausted, and her hair was falling out of its careful style. She probably hadn’t slept at all the previous night.

            

“Jared’s with my parents. Joan’s in London with our uncle, Filius Flitwick. They’re getting help to break us out of here.”

            

“How are they going to do that? When?”

            

“I don’t know when. They’re just gathering people for a fight. They’ll send us a signal when they’re about to come.”

            

“How will we get a signal? All communication is down. How will we know if they’re trying to reach us?”

            

“You have to trust him. We’ll know.”

 

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JP was impressed by every detail of the Ministry headquarters. She had been to her mother’s office several times, and it was nothing like this.  Professional-looking witches and wizards bustled about. Though it was Saturday afternoon, the office was fairly busy. Most of the people looked like Aurors or officials, whose jobs required them to be on duty all the time. 

            

Filius was walking quickly down the hall, and JP had to practically jog to keep up with him.  She kept her hand on her new wand, ready for anything. “Uncle Filius,” she panted. “Where are we going?”  They climbed onto an elevator and waited for the disembodied voice to call “Auror Department.”

            

“We’re getting backup,” Filius answered. “If they have Aurors, so should we.”

            

Filius knocked on a door that read “H. Potter, Chief Auror.”

            

A young man, black-haired man opened the door. “Professor Flitwick,” he said, motioning them inside. “Professor McGonagall told me you’d be coming.”

            

Filius introduced JP to Harry Potter.  She vaguely recognized his name, but didn’t know why. They sat in front of his desk, drinking tea, as Filius explained the American situation. “I have heard,” Potter said slowly. 

            

“I know that it may be out of your area to act in this case,” Filius said carefully.

            

“It is out of the country, but I don’t think it’s beyond our jurisdiction. I can’t believe the Aurors turned against them.  The school should be the last place to be made unsafe.”

            

“Of course.”

            

“This affects all wizards everywhere.  And we know personally what it means for our school to be compromised, don’t we Professor?”

            

“We do.”

            

“When do you want us to go?”

            

“Sunday, 3:00 p.m., American time.”

            

“How many Aurors?”

            

“As many as you can spare. Thank you, Harry.”

            

JP shook Harry Potter’s hand and ran down the hallway after Filius. “When we get outside, call your parents. Tell them the time.”

 

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Jared arrived in a store in Cambridge and quickly sensed that Aurors were guarding it. He apparated quickly, but not without being seen. Breathing hard, he arrived backstage at the nightclub, and heard a smooth voice singing on stage. He knew immediately that it was Troy. “Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue. And those dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.”

            

It only took a minute for Jared to locate his parents.  His mother was wearing clothes that he recognized as Troy’s, and both of them looked extremely out of place. Jared rushed forward and embraced both of them, glad to be back in the U.S. and in a slightly familiar situation. Clive and Thea held tightly to him, then started with a barrage of questions. Jared told them that his sisters were safe, though they both shouted upon learning that JP was still in England. “Filius has a plan, if you have some people and a way in.”

            

“We’re getting there,” Thea said. 

            

They listened to the end of Troy’s song, Clive with his arm around Jared. “We love that guy,” he whispered. 

            

When Troy had finished, he waved the three of them onto the stage. “What’s going on?” Jared asked. 

            

Troy seemed shocked to see Jared, jumping into his arms and kissing him to roars from the crowd. “Your parents aren’t so bad,” he said.

            

After a few moments for a reunion, Troy took the microphone back from a large drag queen who was teasing the crowd. “I have something I’d like to say,” Troy said in his normal voice. “This is my boyfriend.” People cheered. “And these are his parents.” He motioned for them to come forward. “You might recognize this woman. This is Athena McFarland.  She’s been on the news a lot lately.” 

            

Thea listened as Troy described the situation at the school and her attempt to help people through her program.  As Clive stepped away from her to answer his phone, she looked around at the audience. For the first time, although they practically had a plan, she truly felt hopeless and saw her own role in the problem. “Thea, would you like to add anything?” Troy asked, then added under his breath, “and maybe a little show.”

            

She waved her wand over her head, sending golden sparks flying about the room, then flashed all of the lights. For her finale, she sent balloons flying across the ceiling, then exploded them so that silk confetti rained over the crowd. Loud hoots answered her display, and she knew she had their attention. 

            

“My name is Athena McFarland,” she said into the microphone. “I am a witch. I have magical powers. I work for the Department of Magic; I’m the Secretary of Education.  I also created a program that disguises witches and wizards as non-magic people in order to help the greater community.  I’m here tonight because,” she took a deep breath, “I want to apologize. When I started Non-Magic Placement, I arrogantly assumed that you needed our help. From what I’ve seen, it turns out that you were doing alright on your own. I don’t know how you do it without magic. For us, it’s our livelihood. So I’m sorry. I underestimated you.  In my conceited mind, I thought we could help you, but I never realized that you would help us.”  The entire room was silent. Thea turned to look at Clive who was smiling sadly. She felt terrible for her under-appreciation of everything he offered. “I’m sorry,” she said again in his direction. He nodded and she turned back to the audience. 

            

“If I may, from one ‘freak’ to others…” General laughter answered that remark. “Ask your help.  Our school, Salem Academy, means everything to us. If we may, we would like your attendance. All we need is manpower, strength in numbers. Come as a protest or just come. We’re taking our school back.”

            

The large drag queen was in tears. “When, dear?”

            

Thea turned to Clive and shrugged. “Tomorrow, 3:00,” he said, having just hung up with JP. She repeated it to the audience. 

            

“Well, girls,” the drag queen said. “We’ve fought the man before. Let’s do this for our brothers and sisters, for all of the outcasts in this country.”

            

Thea and Jared smiled at each other. Jared took Troy’s hand as Thea threw her arms around Clive’s neck. With a crack, they apparated home.

 


	16. The Battle Begins

 

Filius woke JP up early in their rented room above the Leaky Cauldron and forced her to eat breakfast.  She was beginning to get used to London and looked forward to returning, should Uncle Filius ever invite her back. 

            

“Ministry of Magic,” she shouted into the fireplace and arrived back at the Ministry headquarters, which was virtually empty until they reached the Auror’s offices. Harry Potter stood amidst a circle of Aurors, holding a copy of the _Daily Prophet._ Other Aurors held different American papers.  “Good morning,” Potter called to JP and Filius. “It looks like the situation is the same at the school. We’re still planning on going in there. If the McFarlands have managed to gather enough support and the Professors and older students are armed, we may not face an actual fight. We could intimidate them into surrender.”

            

“That would be best,” Filius said. “We just need to let Salem know we’re coming. I would hate for them to be unaware. Myra passed a general message, if she made it back safely, but we need to tell them we’re on our way.”

            

“They said they’re watching our communication,” JP said. The Aurors looked at each other, and Potter seemed to be brainstorming. 

            

“Then we can’t very well use the fireplaces,” a red-haired Auror muttered. 

            

“What else is there?”

            

JP raised her hand, though she knew it was stupid, and she wasn’t at school. “Excuse me?” she said quietly, motioning for their attention. “I have an idea.”

 

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Myra really didn’t sleep that night and spent much of the day walking among the younger students, trying to make them relax.  She was past talking to her friends, and almost wished she hadn’t been the one to return to Salem. Abby and Wesley were badgering her about her mother and her uncle, about whom she knew almost nothing and was extremely worried.  Everyone was suffering from extensive anxiety, along with sleep deprivation and the beginnings of cabin fever, which made everyone jumpy and eager to lash out at each other.  

            

The professors looked more exhausted than the students, and they waved Myra over to them and interviewed her for over an hour, trying to figure out everything going on in the wizarding world.  She told them what she knew over and over, but none of her answers seemed to satisfy them.  Professor Strauss had clearly not slept in over forty-eight hours. She was almost past speaking and was simply staring at the wall in apparent defeat. 

            

One of the professors from the Potions Department came in from a back room, practically running. “Clytemnestra!” he shouted. “We’re receiving a message.”

            

Strauss snapped out of her reverie. “How?”

            

“Through the fireplace.”

            

She immediately became angry. “Don’t they know we’re being monitored? The Aurors will hear everything.”

            

“Even if they hear it, I don’t think it will be a problem.”

            

“What are they saying?”

            

“I don’t know. Does anybody here speak Goblin?”

 

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Slightly before 3:00, Jared, his parents, and Troy apparated to Salem, far from the school.  They walked slowly to the site, gauging the position of the Aurors.  Behind the line of Aurors and police cruisers, a large group was beginning to form.  People held signs that read “Free the Wizards” and “Children Aren’t Criminals.”  Camera crews were setting up, hoisting boom microphones over their heads. Other cars arrived behind the protest, and parents like the Madisons were climbing out of their cars. 

            

The police and Aurors looked around, apparently worried, but they didn’t break their ranks. They had been at the school for two days without any action and didn’t look ready for an argument. 

            

Clive and Thea worked their way into the crowd, wanting to blend in and not immediately draw attention to themselves.  They shook hands with a strange variety of people, amid the throng of rainbow flags, Stars of David, Wiccan Pentagrams, and signs in Spanish. “Thank you,” Thea said over and over, shocked at the reception. She silently vowed that if they ever escaped this nightmare, she would sincerely learn more about non-magic people.

            

Jared stayed at the back, trying to catch a glimpse of the school. When he couldn’t find a window through the crowd, he looked behind them for any signs of JP or Filius. He wished more than anything for the school to be safe. Surprisingly, he had missed it in the past few days and wondered how Constance and Clytemnestra were handling the lockdown. 

            

Thea and Clive gasped in unison as Octavius Armistead and Aurelius Exeter appeared out of thin air in front of the police line-up.  The two men both glanced at the cameras, then nodded to each other. “Gentlemen,” Armistead said to the guards. With a glance to the cameras to make sure he was on film, he added, “The time has come.”

            

With one swift motion, the Aurors in the line up turned to the non-magic police.  Clearly following orders, most of the Aurors said “Avada Kedavra” in unison. The others, probably due to the two days they had spent with the non-magical police, pushed them to the ground. 

            

The crowd began to scream when they realized that the police were dead. The lines broke and people rushed at each other, some of the Aurors stepping in front of the crowd while the others fired on people at random.  Armistead and Exeter smiled at each other. All was going according to plan. 

 

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Myra looked out the window at the right time to see the police fall amid flashes of green light, as did many other students.  All of them began screaming. Myra pushed through them and ran through the lobby, blasting open the door to the room with the fireplace, where Professor Strauss was on her knees, speaking in strange words. “Professor,” Myra shrieked, “they’re attacking.”

            

Strauss screamed something into the fireplace and stood swiftly, then ran into the lobby. “Silence,” she shouted. “I need every student with a wand to follow Myra through the tunnels. Go into the classroom building and station yourself at the windows. Do not draw unneeded attention to yourselves. Younger students, stay in here and keep away from the windows. Staff, follow me.”

            

Myra didn’t have time to think, but opened the trapdoor and jumped into the hole.  It took several minutes for others to follow, but Sadie and Jackson appeared at her side first. “Let’s go,” she said.

 

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At Strauss’ shrieked “Hurry!” Filius had ordered everyone into the fireplaces. Shouts of “Salem, Massachusetts,” echoed through the hall. 

            

“Are you sure she should come?” Potter shouted to Filius, indicating JP. 

            

“She’s a fighter,” he answered. “And I can’t leave her behind.”

            

Potter nodded, and ushered them into a fireplace. Behind her, JP heard him turn to the red-haired Auror and say, “Been a while, hasn’t it, Ron?”

            

“I’m ready, Harry.”

            

When they arrived in Salem, JP and Filius were holding their wands in front of them, ready for an immediate attack. Instead, the entire room was empty, and no one was in the streets.  All of the British Aurors looked confused, but it only took a moment for them to see why no one was guarding Magical Salem. Everyone was running toward the school. They arrived amidst a chaotic battle, with curses flying everywhere and gunshots ringing out against the still air. 

            

“Be careful,” Potter called, and they spread themselves out among the combatants, Filius instructing JP to stay close.

 


	17. Dueling for Salem

            

Myra instructed all of the students into a classroom window, the last of whom was Asia Madison. “I see JP!” Asia shouted, pointing out the window.  Relieved, Myra hoped her parents and Jared were there, or at least safe in hiding somewhere. After she felt like everyone was ready, she ran down the school hallway, which echoed eerily with her footsteps, and joined the staff on the front lawn, her wand in front of her. 

            

“What are you doing?” Strauss shouted, deflecting a curse from an Auror as more and more wizards appeared on the side of Armistead and Exeter. 

            

“I need to do this,” Myra shouted back, unable to offer any other explanation. 

            

Strauss didn’t argue, but moved closer to the front lines, her hair flying behind her.

 

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JP and Filius lost sight of the other English Aurors as they mixed in with the protesters. The American Aurors, along with Exeter and Armistead, were surrounded, but they had gained enough magical manpower to put up a formidable fight. “Watch out,” Filius shouted, and JP deflected a curse. “Aguamenti,” she shouted, and her favorite spell knocked over two Aurors. Next to her, a police officer drew his gun. “Don’t fire on anybody with a wand,” JP screamed to him, then aimed “Stupefy,” at the Auror who was after the officer. 

            

As the wizards of the crowd attempted to block the non-magic people, JP encountered her mother and father, who stared at her waving her new wand at the Aurors. “Joan,” her mother reprimanded. “What are you doing?”

            

“Dueling.”

            

Thea didn’t have a chance to argue. Exeter was knocking over anyone in his path, determined to eliminate the entire crowd if necessary. “Take him out,” Clive instructed Thea. 

            

“What?” She asked angrily. “This is not about revenge.” As she said it, Clive took a curse to the chest and slumped against her. She shouted his name several times, with no response. 

            

Troy and Jared were suddenly beside them. “Is he..” Troy whispered. 

            

“He’s stunned. Get him out of here.” Troy struggled to lift Clive’s still frame over his shoulder, then fought his way to the back of the crowd and disappeared. Jared leapt over one of the police cars, charging toward the school, to place himself between the Aurors and the children, who were undoubtedly still in the dormitory. 

            

Exeter laughed, touching Armistead’s arm and indicating Clive and Thea. “Mom,” JP shouted. “Duel him.”

            

“Duel who?”

            

“Professor Exeter. You have to. Uncle Filius told us everything.”

            

Thea didn’t have a moment to think or to be angry with Filius for revealing her secrets.  She thought only of her family, Salem Academy, and the fact that, although the protestors had no magic and were practically helpless in this type of battle, no one had fled the scene. Instead, they were offering aid and helping the injured.  Aiming a levitation charm at herself as her daughter bravely fought two Aurors, she flew across the police line and landed face-to-face with Exeter. “Aurelius,” she said.

            

“Athena.”

 

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Jared was surprised to see Myra among the staff, her face set and firing spells left and right.  He had never so much as seen her wave a wand, even after it was legal for her to do magic at home.  Clytemnestra Strauss was her usual viscous self, aiming curses at the Aurors while shrieking at Exeter, who may or may not have heard her. “How could you? This is our school. It means everything to them. You will pay for this.”

            

Constance Armistead was exhausted. Jared could tell as soon as they encountered each other, but she still smiled to see him. “I’m glad you made it back,” she said as if they were in the staff quarters rather than fighting against trained warriors. “How was England?” 

            

Jared and Clytemnestra both re-aimed their spells as the head Auror, the one who had annoyed Clytemnestra through the entire occupation, approached them, grinning in an inappropriate way for a battlefield.  “Hello, sweetheart.”

            

Clytemnestra cursed him, both linguistically and with her wand, but he blocked her efforts and said, “Avada Kedavra,” pointing the wand not at her but slightly to her left. Jared and Clytemnestra screamed in unison as Constance went rigid and hit the ground. 

            

Octavius Armistead appeared from among the Aurors. “That was my daughter,” he said, his voice registering his disbelief. “I told you not to touch her…Avada Kedavra.” The Auror fell before he could open his mouth in his own defense.  Armistead wavered, shocked at the death of his only living child, and therefore, the near finish of his pureblood line. 

            

Jared and Clytemnestra ran to Constance’s body, and Jared lifted her and ran inside to be greeted by screams from the young students. “Keep down and away from the windows,” he warned, diving back out the door. 

            

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On the lawn, Myra watched Jared disappear inside and Professor Strauss raise her shaking wand arm toward Octavius Armistead. “Avada Kedavra,” she said, but Armistead did not so much as waver.  She said the curse again, but Armistead still didn’t fall. Myra approached them. “Stupefy,” she said calmly, and Armistead was lifted off the ground. When he fell, he was unconscious. Myra conjured ropes around his wrists and stiffened his body. 

            

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Only several steps away from them, Thea and Aurelius Exeter moved across the lawn, firing rapidly at each other. “Athena,” Aurelius shouted over the roar of the crowd and the sound of spells being fired, “doesn’t this remind you of London, ’79?” 

            

“This is not a duel, Aurelius. This is real.” 

            

Thea ducked as a dagger flew toward her, then ropes threatened to entangle her.  Several of Aurelius’ spells, she didn’t even recognize.  Green flashes clouded her vision, but she stepped through the thick smoke and said “Stupefy,” several times. Aurelius blocked all of them. 

            

All around them, people were falling to the ground.  Thea barely registered Constance Armistead falling. American and British Aurors were fighting stagnant duels with each other, and Thea vaguely wondered what had happened to Joan. 

            

Thea managed a shot at Aurelius’ leg, which stopped him for enough time for her to shout “Tarantallegra,” but the spell did nothing.  He slashed his wand in the air, and she felt the cut across the side of her cheek.  Screaming, and with blood in her eyes, she fired random spells in his direction. 

            

Distantly, she heard a voice that brought her back to a particular fight thirty years ago. “Athena, think simple. Think about his hands.”

            

Thea didn’t know if Filius was really speaking to her or if she was hearing him only in a memory.  She sent sparks at his left hand, which distracted him long enough for her to say “Expelliarmus.” His wand flew across the lawn, and he dove for her physically. “Petrificus Totalis.” He fell over. “Stupefy.”

            

Thea vaguely registered Filius rushing toward her, but the blood loss was obscuring her vision and making her lightheaded. She fainted without seeing the end of the battle. 

 

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As Exeter fell, Clytemnestra Strauss looked at Myra. “It’s over,” Strauss said.

            

“It’s ours.” 

            

With a shout, both witches pointed their wands behind their backs. Every window in the academic building exploded. “Wands,” Strauss shouted. 

            

As the students concealed in the classrooms raised their wands out of the windows, the remaining American Aurors and the witches and wizards fighting for Armistead and Exeter dropped to their knees. 

 


	18. Afterword

 

Clive and Thea stood in Thea’s new office, watching her new big-screen TV.  She had been interviewed earlier in the day, and they were watching the playback. “We want to thank the American people again for their support,” she said on TV, “We will be talking about the sharing of technologies as soon as the Act passes in Congress.  The Witches and Wizards Organization is willing to work with the United States on our own terms, as long as the sharing of intelligence goes both ways. We all have a lot to learn from each other.” She stepped away from the microphones amid shouts of “Secretary McFarland.”

            

“That was the new secretary, Athena McFarland, giving her first address to the public.  On a related note, the Wizard Protection Act has passed overwhelmingly in the Senate and moves on to the House on Monday.  This Act protects the wizards’ rights as an organization that is allowed to choose and train its own members with minimal interference from the government and with the possibility of secrecy.  Next up, wizard fashion: Is emerald green the new black? And a special on wizarding schools: Why Salem, Northridge, Herbert J. Holenfield, and St. Scorpio’s are not taking applications.”

            

“Ready?” Thea asked Clive, turning off the TV.

            

“Wait just a minute.” 

            

Troy opened the door and let himself in. Since Holt, Wheeler, Wyatt, and Brown were in charge of most of the legal relations between wizards and everyone else, Troy was at the office almost constantly.  With summer approaching, wizard relations were becoming his full-time job. 

            

“Are you coming with us?” Thea asked. 

            

“Absolutely.”

 

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“Thank you, Myra,” Professor Strauss said as both of them stood. “Are you going to DC?”

            

“Yes.”

            

“Wait a few minutes, and I’ll accompany you.”

            

Myra waited outside of Professor Strauss’ office as a small man went inside to speak to her.  All around the school, people were moving about, preparing to take finals on Monday and leave for the summer.  Myra couldn’t believe she was almost done with school, ready to graduate and be an adult, but for once all year, she wasn’t really nervous.  Finals would go well, and she would move on with her life. 

            

Professor Strauss came out of her office, and they walked out of the school toward the apparating point. All of the unplottable charms had been reestablished to prevent curious people from looking around.  After two television specials, non-magic people had seen enough of the school. “That was very interesting,” Strauss said, referring to the visiting man. 

            

“Who was it?”

            

“Pierre Carnegie, Octavius Armistead’s son in law.  After Armistead went to jail, he felt that his daughter Olivia was in danger. He asked me to write a letter so he can transfer her to France. I said we don’t usually transfer, but he’s from France himself. There’s the end of the American purebloods, unless a family moves over here.”

 

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Troy, Clive, and Thea sat in the front row of the gymnasium bleachers as students milled about.  After a few minutes, Jared apparated and sat beside them, to everyone’s greetings.  Frank, Leana, and Asia Madison were next. Frank leaned in and asked Clive, “The meeting this weekend, are you coming?”

            

“Yes I am, Mr. President.”

            

Frank laughed. “I am important. That’s what I get from having a witch for a daughter.” As the head of the new Non-Magical Parents of Magical Children organization, Frank had easily slipped into his new understanding of witches and wizards. Asia handed him a sign with moving letters. “Hold this, Dad,” she demanded, “and cheer.”

            

Clytemnestra Strauss and Myra joined the crowd next, taking seats with the family.  “Jared,” Clytemnestra said, taking his attention away from Troy for a minute. “I reviewed your application.  One more year in the teachers’ quarters, and you can live off-campus.”         

            

“Thank you.”

            

“By off-campus, of course, I mean in magical Salem, practically on the apparating line. But that way, you may live with whomever you choose.”

            

Jared smiled. “That’s great news.”

            

Thea had captured Myra’s attention and was making her relive every moment of the day. “How did your interview go? Did you get the job?”

            

Myra blushed, not wanting to say too much with everyone listening. “I think it went well.”

            

“You think?” Clytemnestra leaned across the row of people. “It went extremely well. And after that battle, I think we all know where you belong.” 

            

Myra and her mother hugged tightly, and Sadie, sitting in the row behind her, squeezed her shoulder.  Next to her was Abby, who said, “So I guess I was right. You _are_ going to be a professor like the rest of your family.”

            

“Yeah, you _were_ right,” Myra said proudly. “I am.”

            

“Yes.” Clytemnestra inserted herself into the conversation.  “Professor of Ancient Runes, Spanish, and the occasional Non-Magical Studies course, thanks to the new requirements of our esteemed secretary. And the first ever Constance Armistead endowed professor for outstanding passion for the school, paid for by the Octavius Armistead fortune we received when he and Exeter went to jail.”

            

Myra had to move as her friend Jackson also pushed his way into their family gathering. “Secretary McFarland,” he said nervously.

            

“Yes, Jackson?”

            

“I wanted you to know that I received my letter.”

            

“And you understand the terms, correct? The Non-Magic Placement Program has changed entirely. You can’t just take up a career without training. In your case, that will mean University, then Medical School.”

            

“I know. I’ve always wanted to be a doctor. I’m ready for it.”

            

“Good. You’ll have much to learn.”

            

The family fell silent as the officials began the tournament. “I think I see her,” Thea whispered. “I’m so nervous.”

            

“Go JP!” Asia shrieked, waving her sign.

            

Across the gymnasium, JP didn’t even hear them.  She was too focused on her opponent, her wand held in front of her body, Uncle Filius giving her last minute instructions.  “You are prepared,” he said, his voice full of pride. A crack sounded from the official’s wand. The duel began.

 


End file.
